


Reprieve

by ManMagnificent



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Parahumans Series - Wildbow, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 43
Words: 161,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManMagnificent/pseuds/ManMagnificent
Summary: Taylor is offered a choice by the Faerie Queen. To let Contessa shoot her, severing her link to her passenger and getting the chance to live a normal life. Or to go to another world where she can be a hero again, only better. She chooses the latter and she's remade into the twin sister of Peter Parker.





	1. Chapter 1

**Dynamic Duo**

**1.1**

_“Why?”_

_“I think the Champion and I share the reason_ why,” _said the Faerie Queen, giving a glance towards Contessa. The woman didn’t move, only looking toward me with an unreadable expression. “We know how hard this path is, worse still how hard it is to_ survive.”

_“Your life will never be normal from this point on,” said Contessa. “You will forever be hated, even if some understand what you did, even if they’re grateful that_ this _came to pass. There will be resentment. There will be attempts on your life. You only have one option.”_

_“Had,” the Faerie Queen corrected. “I bring another, perhaps a greater option beyond the half-life the Champion would have offered. One, I think, which will speak to you quite deeply, Queen Administrator.”_

_“Even so,” said Contessa. “You have the choice.”_

_The Faerie Queen nodded._

_“With me,” said Contessa, “you would be free of the burden of your powers. You would have a semblance of normality, anonymity on another, more peaceful world.”_

_“And with me,” said the Faerie Queen. “You would be dropped in a world where you could make a difference, much like our own except now you know your mistakes and you can be better. Above all, you would have family, perhaps friends. You would have your power if you choose it.”_

_I hadn’t even had time to think about it before something of a smile appeared on Contessa._

_“I’ve lost,” she said. “I look forward to more, Faerie Queen.”_

_The woman turned, walking away leaving me with the Faerie Queen._

_I was plunged into darkness._

_***_

Aunt May groaned, then, as I got into the living room area, she quickly switched into a smile. She wore an excess of clothes to make up for the November chill. It was really hell that I was forcing then out to run in winter, but it was either that or not being allowed to.

“Are we ready?” she said, putting false cheer into her tone. “Peter, aren’t you excited?”

Peter, who was in the kitchen, gulping down a bowl of cereal only grunted. It was very early in the morning, but there was no other choice if we wanted to get back in time for Peter and me to shower, eat and not miss the school bus.

“You don’t have to fake the excitement, Aunt May,” I said. Her smile dropped a little and I caught that gaze she often directed at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. I wasn’t normal and though people couldn’t quite pinpoint it, they could tell. Aunt May, who was the one adult I spent the most time with, felt it more than most.

“I get it,” I said, shrugging. “It’s early, cold and you wanna go back to sleep. Which is why I keep telling you that you should let Petey and me run on our own.”

“Don’t call me Petey,” said Peter. “It makes it sound like you’re older than me.”

“Thirty minutes, Peter,” I said, couldn't help myself. It had been a role at first, but it was easier now to get into the dynamic. Let myself revel in the joke only I knew. “Thirty minutes and you pretend like you’re five years older than me.”

“And that right there is the reason why,” Aunt May, before we could devolve into something of an argument. “You’re fourteen, which means you just running out there alone…”

“I take karate,” I said, though I knew it wouldn’t mean much. It had taken a lot to convince _Dad_ that I could run alone and there had been factors there working in my favour: We’d lived in the suburbs, I’d been older, barely, and Dad had been trying to placate me because of the bullying both of us hadn’t mentioned.

Now I lived in Queens.

_Had_ been living Queens my entire life, even knowing my memories of the experience were false. I knew I’d had parents in this reality, that they’d died, that the same was true for Uncle Ben, but…all of it just felt far away. As far as I could tell, it was part of what the Faerie Queen had done to make sure I could settle into this reality. Warped my body so that I was younger, healed the connection between me and my passenger so I was in control, everything returned to a semblance of what it once was; implanted memories to returned what my passenger had taken, and then altering everyone else so that I fit in seamlessly into this life.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, about her and the degree of care she would have had to take to put all of this together. But I had no other choice but to be thankful. If I’d been on any of the earths that derived abilities from Scion, I never would have had peace. This place was better, different and new, but still with certain flavours that I was used to.

Aunt May took a breath and then slowly let it out. She frowned. “I don’t want to say your lessons are useless…but—”

“But I’m small and thin, and mass and height count for something,” I said, interrupting her. “I’ve been taught all this, even how to get past them. If Petey and I,” I caught Peter glaring with the corner of his eye, “just run, we’ll be fine. You won’t have to wake up early in the morning.”

“Or,” said Peter, “we could just stop this altogether. No more waking up in the mornings for everyone, then.”

“Not in the cards,” I said. “This was me trying to ease the burden a little. But…” I shrugged.

“Don’t get why _my_ burden isn’t eased a little,” said Peter. “You talk and it’s all about May. But me? No-one’s talking about me having to wake up. Waking up is a _pain._ ”

“Odd when you wake up so early,” I said. Peter spat out his cereal, earning a frown from Aunt May. “Anyway, what if I need my big brother to protect me?”

“Ha-ha.” He finished off his cereal and moved his bowl to the sink. He stretched a little, started running on the spot in quick order. “You know, I take gym. I’m sure _you_ take gym. You could get that all out of your system then.”

“I can’t set the pace there,” I said. “And we’ve been over this. Family bonding time.”

Peter shot me an aghast expression. “We can bond over TV,” he said.

“You don’t watch much TV with us,” said Aunt May. “Taylor’s right. This is good,” she said, trying and failing to push in enthusiasm. “This means, holistically, we’re better people. We live longer lives.”

Peter groaned. _“Fine._ Let’s go then.”

We left as a group. No one on our floor was up yet, which meant we didn’t have to greet anyone. The way I liked it. Jeremy Matthews had something of a crush on me and his parents encouraged it, which didn’t make interactions any better. But beyond him and his family, there was everyone else: In their eyes, I was a fourteen-year-old girl, relatively sheltered and innocent. They wanted to protect me and it was grating because I could protect myself better they ever could.

But I was supposed to deal with it in silence, anything else would look too odd.

“Okay,” I said as we got out of our building. “We’ll start things slow for Aunt May and slowly up the pace. We’ll start taking laps and as we go on, Peter, you’ll be going faster because I’ve noticed that you’ve been slacking off.”

“That’s been slacking off?” said Aunt May. “I’ve seen you two run. It’s…you guys are a lot sprier than I was at your age.”

“Taylor’s a health nut,” said Peter.

I hummed. “Nothing bad about that,” I said. We started running a little and I noticed how bored Peter was. “Take large leaps. I want your knees to reach your chest. You’ll do this for warm up. A half or maybe a full block, until you get tired.”

Peter gave me a look and then shrugged, going along with it. I smiled a little. He spoke a lot about being older, but when it mattered he went along with me taking lead.

We ran a block and a half before Peter and I started running faster, quickly out pacing Aunt May. Peter started out pacing me shortly after.

It was part of his powers, mover rating enough to matter, minor brute and a blaster power he could use to make webs. He was Spider-Man, a name that didn’t fit with how young he was, but it helped when he was obfuscating his identity. More than anything, he was the local hero in a place that was lacking in something as organised as the Protectorate.

He was a hero and he hid it from Aunt May and me. I knew, because I’d felt it one night. I’d been a lot more paranoid then and I’d had bugs stationed around the apartment. I’d felt him as he’d opened the window and jumped out. I’d almost died in panic before he’d swung, moving between buildings and then quickly out of my range.

I knew and he didn’t know I knew. But whenever I told him to push himself harder, he acquiesced. I had to wonder how he parsed things from his side of the fence. Did he suspect I knew and was just going along until I confronted him? Did he think I suspected and he was giving me the pieces so that I could put everything together?

I was a quarter of a block in front of Aunt May, and Peter was half a block in front me. I had bugs on him and when I tapped into their senses I didn’t smell a sliver of sweat. He wasn’t breathing hard, instead he was just going at it at a light jog.

I took a deep breath and pushed myself faster, feeling as my lungs started to burn and legs started to hurt. Peter glanced back and started to slow down. I shook my head, gesturing for him to push himself faster and he shrugged, going faster and increasing the distance between us.

He stopped when he reached his endpoint, doubling back and reaching me before I could even reach a quarter of the block whose end would mark the finish line. I stopped, breathing hard and doing my best to control my breathing. I felt as Peter started modulating his breathing, putting on a play at fatigue.

“Little break,” he said, panting between the words. “Give May time to catch up?”

I nodded, swallowing. My arms were on my legs, sweat dripping off me.

“Stop,” I said. “Stop acting.”

I felt as his heart started to beat faster. “Wh—What?”

“Stop…acting,” I said. “I know.”

“You must be tired Taylor, because you’re not making sense,” he said, a quiver in his voice. He’d forgotten to keep panting, forgotten that he was acting at being tired.

I took a gulp of air. Aunt May was still a distance away, though I was sure if I glanced back I would be able to see her. I had bugs out, tracking people and I knew that there wasn’t anyone near.

“I _know,”_ I said. “The whole Spider-Man thing.”

I looked up and there was fear there, his mouth agape. He didn’t say anything.

“A part of me convinced myself that you were giving me the pieces and wanted to figure it out,” I said. “But…your expression right now is telling me different.”

“I…”

“Don’t deny it, Petey,” I said. “I _know.”_

“How?” he asked.

“I have powers too.”

“The spider bit you too?”

“What? What spider?” Peter looked around, confused. “No one’s around. At least no one that can hear us. But that’s not factoring in thinker powers or anything.”

“Think—” He shook his head. He closed his eyes, taking a breath. “There was a spider and it bit me. That’s how I got my powers. How did you get yours?” He got closer, whispering. “Are you an Inhuman? I’ve heard they’ve been popping up on the internet and like…SHIELD and stuff.” His eyes bulged more. “Are you going to get abducted?”

“Petey, calm down,” I said. “No one knows. I’ve been quiet. You know that story that keeps popping around the Internet, about the Dweller in the Depths?”

“The bug stories?” he said. “Wait, you can turn into bugs?”

“No. Control bugs,” I said. I pointed at an alley and bugs started moving, shifting and forming a mass. I started to make them congeal into a human form that moved forward. Peter took a few steps back, swearing under his breath.

**“Hello,”** they said.

“Oh, fuck, they talk,” he said. He looked at me. “They _talk_. You can make them talk. How can you make them talk? How do you control them? Or are they smart on their own and you’re just giving sort of a guide?”

“May’s close enough to hear,” I said, a large grin on me. “Bug sensing.”

Peter grinned, giving me a hug and picking me up. “This is going to be _so_ cool.”

“Yeah,” I said smiling. This was the first step in making this world different, more connections, focusing less on saving the world and letting others deal with that while I focused smaller scale.

I still wanted to be a hero, but this time I wanted to do it right.

“Yeah."


	2. Chapter 2

**Dynamic Duo**

**1.2**

“I can run faster than normal, jump really high, stick to any surface,” he said, counting on his fingers. He demonstrated this by jumping, curling into ball and then extending his legs to stick on the ceiling. He bent, touched his fingers to the ceiling and then he let himself fall, but the fingers connected were strong enough to let him stick.

“It’s…I don’t know, like all the abilities that a spider has but scaled up because I’m bigger,” he said. “They can leap really long distance, scurry pretty fast and they’ve got a heightened sense of awareness.”

“They also shoot webs,” I said and then I grinned. “Out of their _butts.”_

“Ew. Ew. No,” said Peter. He let himself fall, landing lightly. He went to his wardrobe and pulled out a tinker-esque contraption. He tossed it and I caught it: The thing was a wristband with a bullet shaped nozzle, on either side were blocks connected to the nozzle by thick tubes. There trigger extended from the wrist band to the base of the palm.

“Can I try it?”

Peter nodded. I slid the wristband on, fixed the straps and made it tighter. I looked it over, opening and closing my wrist to get the feel of it. Closing my hand into a fist didn’t press the trigger, but I could see that if I punched someone, it would release.

“Short press and it’ll shoot out a projectile,” he said. “Longer press and it’ll shoot out a thick string.”

“You made it so it has dual functions?” I said.

He shook his head. “It lets out a spray at first and the spins a thick thread after it. Short press means the initial spray, which spreads out so it can stick, is severed before it can extend into a thread.”

I pressed less than a second and a web shot out. It wasn’t the intricate display spiders naturally made, but hodgepodge, messy, with lines landing over each other.

“How strong is it? The silk?”

_“Very,”_ said Peter, a large smile on him. “It’s the same properties as real silk…to a point, at least. It’s still something I’m working on, which means it’s I can swung with without it breaking. If it was going against someone like the Hulk or Thor, it’d lose.”

I pressed the trigger a little longer and the front of the web shot out, spreading out in a mess like the projectile, except this time there was a long thread of tightly spun silk trailing behind it.

“Let go and it’ll cut the thread,” said Peter. I did and the thread was severed, falling on the ground. “I usually just grab it. I’ve got super friction, so I never slip.” He motioned pressing the base of his palm and then grabbing in quick succession. “It’s how I travel.”

“Does your power help you build all this, or…?”

“No,” he said. “Built it myself. Thought about the properties of silk, then about synthesising it. I looked through all the information I could and worked off it. Still haven’t gotten it as strong as real silk would be if I was using it, but I’m still working on the web fluid formula.”

I let out a chuckle. “It’s easy to forget you’re a genius sometimes,” I said. Peter blushed.

“You too, though,” he said. “If you wanted to, you could get into Midtown easy.”

I shook my head. “It’s…different for me,” I said. “My ‘genius’ is limited and I’d quickly burn out if I was in your type of environment. Public school is better. Means I have time to brainstorm.”

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “What are you plans?” I said. “You go out almost every day and you patrol. But what are you hoping to do? What’s the end goal?”

Peter shrugged. “What do you want me to say? I want to be a hero.”

“Like Iron Man,” I said.

Again, Peter shrugged.

“One of the best moments of my life was at the Stark Expo,” he said. He smiled, looking at me. “He said I was brave, for standing down against those drones and…” He shrugged, sighing. “I wanted to be more. I want to help people like he does. And, now I have my chance.”

“Tall order. Iron Man is _Tony Stark,”_ I said. “One of the richest people alive. It’s easier for him because of the resources he has. He can build those suits of his, spend money to keep the Avengers alive. But…we don’t have the same resources. If you wanted to be like him, then you’d have to accept you’re always going to be at a disadvantage.”

“You think this is stupid, don’t you?” he said, gaze towards the ground, his arms crossed. “That I can’t do this?”

“It’s not that,” I said. “More…I want you know where you’re starting from and that this isn’t going to be easy. If you want to help people then…it’s not just going to be swinging around the city, hoping you’ll stumble onto something. It’ll mean actual _work,_ it’ll mean sacrifice.”

“I know that,” said Peter. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but,” he shrugged, “it still has to be done doesn’t it? You know what Uncle Ben liked to say. If you have the power to change things, they you _have_ to.”

I let out a long sigh. “I remember,” I said, even if it was hollow, with little in the way of emotional attachment. The only reason I knew Uncle Ben was because of memories the Faerie Queen had given me, to a point the same was true for Peter and Aunt May. But where they differed was I’d gotten to know them, there’d been enough time for my defences to chip away and for me to grow to love them.

In the macro sense, this meant from my perspective, Uncle Ben’s name wasn’t as hallowed as it was for Peter and Aunt May. It meant I could see how bad Uncle Ben’s philosophy could be. Not for him directly, but for those connected to him. There were consequences even for doing good things.

“But those aren’t easy words to live by,” I said. “He—”

“Yeah,” Peter interrupted, his voice cracking. He didn’t go on and I stopped, the two of us sharing a moment of silence. Peter sighed. “Yeah. May would hate me for this.”

“She wouldn’t hate you,” I said. “She’d understand, but she’d be upset. She lost Uncle Ben because of his saving people thing and, through this, it would be like we’re forcing her to watch as the same fate slowly crept closer. It’s why we have to do this carefully, why we’re not going to take shortcuts and we’re going to treat this with the gravity it deserves.”

Looking serious, Peter nodded. “You sound like you have a plan.”

I nodded. “Costume and capital, first,” I said. “We’ll slowly gather gear and then work our way up as we go on. Training will be mandatory and, for you more than me, there’ll be light patrols. Getting the locals used to you.”

“I already have a costume,” said Peter.

“Eh,” I said. “I’ve seen your costume and it’s first iteration at best. It’s not something people will take seriously when we eventually start having to work with the police.”

“We’ll work with the police? How much have you planned, exactly?” he said.

“Capital is what we’re going to be working on first,” I said. I reached into my bag and pulled out my notebook. “You know about Crime Stoppers?” Peter shook his head. “It’s basically an organisation which you can give tips about crimes and they give you rewards if your tip was worth something. I called the place during the day, asked the procedure and it’s simple. We just call, we’re given a sort of reference number and then we call back after a while and they tell us if something came of it.”

“But…isn’t that bad? Like saving people and expecting money?”

“With capital we get better supplies,” I said. “I get better bugs which means when I make your costume it will be better. All the perks of _actual_ silk because I’m going to have my spiders weaving the costume together. That’s not mentioning weapons: A good knife, expandable baton, a burner phone, a laptop because that’s always handy, pepper spray, Capsaicin and those are just for me. For you, we’ll have to buy better gear so you can upgrade your web shooters, also supplies to make your web thing—”

“Web fluid,” said Peter.

“Yeah, that. I’m also thinking maybe a storage space which will be a workshop? You can test out anything else you want to do. Your tinker lab.”

“You’ve _really_ thought this out.” I shrugged. “How are we going to find a crime, anyway? I don’t know if you know this, but they aren’t exactly easy to find. Most of the time I’m stopping jaywalkers.”

“We’re going to find them because I’m awesome,” I said. “My power is awesome even if it isn’t the same sort of powerhouse as yours.”

Peter snorted. “Yeah. Comparing apples to oranges,” he said and he grinned. “Though,” stretching out the word, “if we were comparing them, on a taste level, my oranges would be better than your apples.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I could totally take you down if we fought,” he said. “Even _with_ your karate.”

“Really?” I said.

“Without a doubt.”

I pulled from the bugs I could feel spread out over the entire building, a roach entered Peter’s room, jumping and spreading its wings. He was immediately on his feet, ostentatiously flipping away and landing on the wall before the roach could land on him. I pulled in more bugs: Ants and more roaches, flies and gnats, all of them flying towards him. He jumped at me, angling so he would land short. I pushed myself back, rolling and coming to a stand. He didn’t come at me, only picking up his web shooter.

More bugs were filing into the room, crawling over the floor and towards Peter.

“Okay, stop,” he said. “Before you have them crawl over my bed or something.” As one, every bug stopped. Peter looked over them and shivered. “Your power is _so_ creepy. No wonder they think you’re a horror movie monster.”

I shrugged, beginning to push the bugs back. Peter took his web shooter and looked it over. He put it on, pulling out a cartridge with the web fluid and then pressing the trigger.

“You know I could have just webbed you, right?” he said.

“Ditto,” I said. “If this were I fight, I’d have spiders and trip wires up. I’d go for the eyes and throat, bites to put you off balance and I’d be hiding in the thick of a cloud of bugs. I’ve heard it’s pretty terrifying.”

Peter didn’t look like he believed me.

“How many bugs can you control?” he asked.

“No idea,” I said. “I’ve never really felt my upper limits.”

“And you can sense through them?” he asked. I nodded. “So, we’ll use your bugs as recon, scout out trouble and make the call?”

“My range, your mobility,” I said. “My range covers three blocks. I’ll search through those blocks for anything that looks suspicious and then you’ll move us along until we get something.”

“That’s…going to take a while,” he said.

I shrugged. “You have a better idea?”

“No,” he said. “And I also don’t have a problem with your whole plan, just that…can it _not_ be boring? It sounds like we’re just going to be swinging from block to block and I’ll just be standing there while you…I don’t even know, see through your bugs? And it also doesn’t do anything about the other stuff I usually stop, a crash that’s about to happen, someone who’s not paying attention and steps into the road, opportunist muggers.”

“You want to patrol,” I said. He gave me a shrug. “Movers gotta move, I guess. I’ll make sure that between exercises, you get patrol time.” Peter had been frowning since I’d mentioned movers. “On the fly threat analysis,” I told him. “I’ll teach you when we get to strategy and how to handle combat situations, but that’s for the future. May’s home.”

“What, really?” he said, slightly panicked. He took his web shooter and shoved it in his drawers, grabbed a box cutter and started removing the web stuck to his wall. “We don’t tell her, right? I know we haven’t said anything, but—”

I gave him a nod. “For now, we don’t,” I said. “But at some point, we should. I don’t know about you, but, I don’t want to keep a secret like that.”

Peter sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “Just not now.”

***

One of the most frustrating things about this universe was the non-existence of PHO. I mean, I understood it, the Age of Superhero was still in its early years, with only one true superhero team, and villains being few and far between. But it didn’t help my frustration in the least. Because of this, I’d had to subscribe to a total of eleven forums, all of them discussing superhero, gods, aliens and everything in between to make sure I got my full assortment of news.

“Hey, Taylor,” said Ned. He had a dopey grin on him, but then, he always had a dopey grin on him. I gave him a wave, my earphones still on, and returned to scrolling at length through inane chatter, hoping I would find something worth my attention.

“Peter’s in his room,” I said. Ned was still next to me, _staring._

“Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah.”

He walked off and with the bugs I had in Peter’s room I heard as they started going off on something I wasn’t too interested in, their books coming out.

“No homework today?” said Aunt May. She had a recipe book open and was focused on keeping to the instructions. A part of me hoped she’d fail whatever she was trying and we’d have take-out. Last time it had been Peter’s pick and he’d wanted Thai. Again. He had an incredible ability to eat the same thing over and over.

“Homework is to fortify concepts,” I said, not looking up from my phone. I lowered the volume, but I didn’t look up. I was reading a blip of news on a Canadian Inhuman spotting, a man who could make his skin glow a variety of colours, but the poster hadn’t linked to another source and there was an argument if it was true or if the poster just wanted likes.

“I don’t need that,” I said. “It’s a waste of everyone’s time if I do it.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” said Aunt May. She looked up at me. “Your teachers can’t believe that. It goes against everything I remember about school.”

“It’s all about authority,” I said. I scrolled up, fixated by the comments because things had devolved into an Internet fight. One side was made up entirely of conspiracy theorists saying powers popping up wasn’t natural and it was something the government had put in the water and it was just now starting to come to a head.

Almost certainly, it wasn’t true. But there was a perverse sense of pleasure from watching the more rational argument being shot down by insanity. The conspiracy theorist was going off about a cage falling from the skies to grab a guy who’d been surrounded by military. Though for the life of him, he couldn’t supply any pictures.

“Most of life is, but school more than anything,” I said absently. “Teachers don’t have a lot of authority. They act like they do with detention, demerits or whatever, but at the end of the day what they can do is limited and boils down to time wasting. I told my teacher I wasn’t going to do busy work and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. I was right and she sent me to the Principal’s office, but at that point I’d won no matter what happened. Maybe I’d get suspended, but most likely it would be a talking to. The point was proven.”

Aunt May had stopped moving. I looked up at her and I could see traces of fear in her eyes, directed at me.

“I pity the teachers who have to deal with you,” she said. She smiled a little. “But then, you get that from me. I remember when I was still at school. I was something of a rebel,” she said, pride in her tone.

“Were you really?”

She deflated a little. “What? You don’t believe me?”

I shrugged. “It’s just that…I don’t think rebels name themselves,” I said. “They just sort of _do._ Looking at you, I’m getting a cheerleader vibe.”

“For a year, or two,” she said. “I was still figuring myself out back then. Then I started…” She shook her head, dramatically closing her mouth. “Never mind.”

I sat straighter, the discussion on the net forgotten.

“Come on, May. You can’t just start something juicy then leave me hanging. What was it?” She shook her head. “You know, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to keep imagining ridiculous scenarios. Because right now, I’m feeling the urge to track the things that could be ‘started’ when you would have been at high school so I can have an idea of it.”

“Might work a little more if you knew how old I am,” she said.

“I know how old you are. We threw you a party last year,” I said.

She was grinning. “No, no, no. You _think_ you know how old I am. But that, my dear, is a deception I’ve been planting since you and Peter were but babes. You’ll have to console yourself with whatever _wrong_ imaginings you have, always knowing you’ll never know the truth.”

I let out a sigh. “It was probably something boring anyway,” I said. “Maybe smoking…” I watched and she didn’t give me anything, only bouncing as she stirred whatever it is she was cooking. Deftly not paying attention to me. “Weed…?” Again she gave me nothing. “Ecstasy…? That was a thing, right?”

“Fish all you want,” she said. “You ain’t getting anything from me.”

I was smiling as I returned to my phone, but the smile fell away as I noticed what I was doing. How I was slowly trying to piece together the cape scene, all of it in secret. The Faerie Queen had given me a second chance at life, a do-over even if all I’d known was gone. She’d known me well enough to know I’d want to do good, to become a true hero and she’d offered me the opportunity to do things differently. But here I was, falling back on some of the things I’d done before.

I’d lied to Dad about my powers, about what I did when I was out, and soon I’d be doing the same with Aunt May. A part of me wanted to rationalise, to say this time was different, the choice wasn’t solely my own and there was Peter to consider; the fact that knowing might hurt Aunt May more than if Peter and I were sneaking out in secret. Because then she’d _know_ we were putting ourselves in danger, and we were one day off from being a repeat of what had happened to Uncle Ben.

It wasn’t something I wanted to think about, but I hadto. So much had happened and I’d let myself lock it away, to the point Dr Yamada had feared me letting down the wall. This time _had_ to be different.

Even so, it didn’t make things easier. Choosing between telling her the truth, which might be better for my own personal growth and hurt Aunt May or lying to her for her own good.

_Just this once,_ I thought. _Just this once and I’ll deal with it when I’m alone. When I can think without interruption._

I pushed the thoughts back, focusing on what I _could_ work on right now. Peter wanted to be a hero. _I_ wanted to be a hero, but I wanted to be different. I didn’t want to be Skitter or Weaver but have the same comfort I’d had in myself and my decisions when I’d decided to be Taylor.

First were costumes. May had arrived before I could take Peter’s measurements. I’d only been able to jot down what he’d like in a costume and I was going to sketch it throughout the day. He seemed to be fixated on the red and blue colour scheme, which wasn’t bad on a PR standpoint. It was bright and it would send the right message since we wanted to be a healthier option than the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. It would mean, when we started working with the police, they’d be more trusting because the public would have a degree of faith in us.

Unfortunately, I would also have to have a costume trending in the direction of _bright._ Maybe I could use the Weaver costume as a backbone, largely white and blue...but white had the con of staining when blood was involved.

I internally shook my head.

_Less bullet ants and more butterflies,_ I mentally recited.

My teammates hadn’t liked Weaver as a persona, but she was my go-to when I thought about being a hero, dealing with all the bureaucracy being a hero involved. I had to cannibalise the best of Weaver, the best of Skitter and above all, the best of _me_. In the hierarchy of personas, then Taylor was more important, what she’d do, how she’d act and what she held the most important.

And here, what would Taylor do? What would Taylor want?

I didn’t want to be mistaken for a villain, which meant as much as there wasn’t a lot of utility in a bright costume, it would have to do. I wanted Peter to be happy, which meant I had to be a hero in good standing, which meant Weaver more than Skitter.

“Going to my room,” I said. Aunt May gave me a wave.

I pulled out my notebook and started jotting down new designs. I was thinking a similar aesthetic to Weaver, light and bright colours but with the bug motif in mind: white and a green several shades lighter than a mantis.

When things had come to a head with Echidna, I’d been able to rock a cape. Maybe I could do something similar, shape it so it flowed and was reminiscent of wings. Green lacewing wings, maybe. It fit thematically, my love for flying along with how I loved using silk for various odds and ends. The bug eyes had to stay, but they’d maybe be white or gold since the costume had an excess of white.

I frowned when I saw the gold coloured lenses, shook my head and scrapped it. Maybe a lighter blue colour, anything but gold.

I started sketching my costume. The armour panelling and how it would look, drawing out different colour schemes and where they would fit together. There was also the motif I would have on my chest just like Peter with the spider on his costume. But I would have to start think on the name situation, keep Weaver or come up with something new. At least many of the names in Earth Bet weren’t known here, but I didn’t like the idea in the least.

A knock interrupted me before I could start thinking in the direction.

“Dinner,” said Aunt May.

***

“You ready?” said Peter. He was standing on the wall outside my window, fully dressed in his costume. Looking at him, he was exactly what I’d been afraid of when I’d first thought about going out, the inherent limitations of putting together a costume. His wasn’t bad looking, but it was very clear he had a limited budget.

But he seemed comfortable in it, even if it made him look a little bit dopey, a bit like he was playing dress up.

“Yeah,” I said, climbing out of the window, stepping on the fire escape. A mass of bugs I had gathered in the shadows on the side of the building moved towards me, climbing onto and cloaking me, bulking me up much like Brian usually did. Peter shivered, taking a few steps back, which took him higher.

“Creepy. Creepy. Creepy,” he said. “Ew, Taylor, no,” he muttered as I had the bugs shifting onto my hair, giving it life. I had more bugs settle over my face.

“I don’t have a mask,” I said through the bugs. He visibly shivered again.

“We could _get_ you one,” he said. “Just go into a store and buy a Halloween mask. You don’t need to do _this._ Because this is _so_ disgusting,” he said, shivering. “Those things are dirty and they’re creepy and they’re just crawling all over you. Blugh.”

“In a moment they’ll be crawling all over you,” I said.

“No. _No._ I didn’t agree to that,” he said. “You’re not covering me in bugs.”

“I meant I’d be on your back,” I said. “So…”

Peter hugged himself. “I’m not liking this anymore,” he said. “Are you going to be like this every night we do this? Just covering yourself in disgustingness?”

“I’ll buy a ski-mask tomorrow,” I said. “Didn’t really think about it.”

“Does your power mean you’re not creeped out by bugs crawling over you?” he said. He stepped closer, standing on his toes. “Though the hair thing you’re doing is pretty cool. Gives it more volume.”

“Which is what I’ll be doing with a cape,” I said. “Give it an effect like I’m always standing just right of a cool breeze. Make it billow.”

Peter tusked. “Edna would be so disappointed in you,” he said.

“Edna?” I said, frowning.

“Edna Mode,” said Peter. “She’s like _the_ suit designer. Taylor,” he said, with a small groan. “Sometimes it’s embarrassing to have you as a sister. You’re telling me you’ve never watched the Incredibles?” He shook his head. “This is…just wrong. Tomorrow, you, me, May, we’re watching it.”

“Okay, okay,” I said. I got a sense of the layout of the surrounding blocks with my bugs, feeling the people who were out and about, giving me a sense of how they moved. No one was close and those who were, were asleep. “Let’s get a little distance. I’ve pretty much covered the surrounding twenty-one blocks from the house, so we need to move further.”

“Cool…Cool.”

“You’re not moving,” I said.

“Yeah. Give me a second.” He stood straight, shook his hands while breathing loudly and then jumped, a small jump. He fell, the twisted in the air and shooting out a line of silk which connected to the building on the other side of the street. He swung away, angling himself around and then fired off another web, this one leading him to land beside me. “Forgot I was standing on a wall.”

“It’s what you get for showing off,” I said. “Let’s get going.”

He nodded and I felt him shiver as I got on his back. But even so, we started climbing up the wall. High enough, he leapt, fired with both hands, catching the thread with one hand and swinging. It was thrilling at first, until we sailed further up into the air, Peter letting go of the thread and firing another double shot. We immediately changed direction and my stomach lurched, its contents feeling like they were crashing against the side.

Peter didn’t notice, gaining more momentum and the leaping further into an upward arc, twisting in the air before firing another double shot. The contents of my stomach slammed against the sides again and then quickly started shooting up my throat. I quickly tapped Peter and he angled us onto a roof, no sooner was I there than everything had just _spilled._

I shook my head as I dry heaved. “No. No thank you. Too fast. Too much changing direction. Just no.”

“Too many bugs too,” said Peter, shaking himself off and killing some of the bugs still on him. “Let’s try this again tomorrow, when you’ve got your ski mask.”

“Yeah and we won’t swing tomorrow,” I said. “Running and jumping. I can handle running and jumping. Not this torture.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Dynamic Duo**

**1.3**

“I look like a criminal,” I said, looking at myself in the mirror. Peter, who was reclining on my bed, gave me a shrug. I turned around, looking myself over. “A criminal who’s been wearing the same clothes for every job they’ve ever done.”

I had on black jeans which were so faded they were almost grey; a thin shirt with holes in places, it also had been black once upon a time; a faded black hoodie, which was two sizes too big; and boots which were in surprisingly good condition even if they were crusted with dirt.

“We don’t have money,” he said absently. “And anyway, we’re not going to be doing much, right? So you don’t have to worry about being seen.”

I shook my head. “Never think like that, little brother—”

“I’m older than you!” he said sitting up.

“Look what happen to Mr Incredible. If Frozone wasn’t there…” I whistled.

My earlier comment forgotten, Peter smiled.

“It’s an awesome movie, right?” he said.

“Very awesome,” I said. “Though…”

Peter groaned. “Please don’t ruin it.”

“I’m not going to ruin it. I’m just…I was a little confused about the themes that’s all. It seems to say—”

Peter groaned even louder, throwing himself back and closing his ears. “None of that. No boring analysis of the greatest movie in existence. You’re just going to ruin it.”

“Greatest movie?” I said and snorted. Peter looked in my direction, _scowling._ I raised my hands in surrender. “Wasn’t going to disagree, just imagining you saying that on the Internet and all the people that’d be down your throat…Speaking of, I wouldn’t really mind watching that.”

“Schadenfreude, much?” he said.

I took a loud gasp. “Petey’s first big word,” I said, cooing. “Make sure not to break your tongue as you try and force it out.”

Peter snickered, looking to the roof; he raised his legs and jumped to his feet, landing on my bed and bouncing up to land on the roof. He reclined there.

“Don’t do that to my bed,” I said.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he said, waving it off. He was still smiling as I turned to the mirror, looking over what Peter had wanted to call a costume. It wasn’t a costume and I didn’t want it to be, even by association. I took off the hoodie, looking it over.

“This is awesome, isn’t it?” Peter said. I looked at him through the mirror. He was reclining with his arms behind his head, looking out my window. “Having powers, I mean. Like…”

“Yeah,” I said, a sad smile on me. Having powers had changed my left, opened it up to a much larger world. Because of my powers I’d had friends, I’d gotten out of Winslow and, even if how I’d gone about it had been bad, it had helped me save the worlds.

“What’s wrong?”

I turned, snapped out of the melancholic revelry. “What?”

“You looked…sad all of a sudden,” he said. He got off the wall. “Did I say something? Or…is it girl stuff? Is there like a guy I should beat up or something? Because I can.”

“No,” I said, chuckling. “Just, remembering stuff I’d rather not be remembering. It’s okay, though, we should focus on this. I don’t want to be wearing black. It’s…I don’t like it, don’t like how people might see me if they saw it. First impressions stick.”

“I can get you another one,” he said. “It’s not a problem swinging to Brooklyn to get some shopping done.”

“I’d like that,” I said. “Thank you. Can you get me a green hoodie, the same shade of green I showed you for my costume? If people see the first iteration of my suit being green, it’ll be easier to connect the costume I’ll be wearing in the next phase.”

“Green isn’t exactly stealthy.”

“So is blue and red, and yet you’ll be wearing your suit,” I said. “This is in the case we miss something. If I miss someone in the area with their phone out or there’s paparazzi and I think it’s better they know you exist.”

“Okay,” he said. “Guy small, right?”

I nodded. “Girl hoodies are too form fitting, too tight,” I said. “Better something loose I’ll be able to move in if we have to fight.”

“The jeans and boots?”

“They’re fine. But if you see running shoes with green in them, then I wouldn’t mind. But if it’s a hassle, then you can just do whatever.”

“Cool,” he said. “I’ll make it a patrol thing. It doesn’t hurt if I have a bag, right? The last one I left, my webs dissolved and it was stolen. I can’t buy textbooks with all the allowance we’re spending on the clothes.”

“Take off anything which might make people think you’re a kid—”

“A kid who’s older than you.”

“—and we’re fine. At some point you’ll also have to skip school. You get popular enough and people might make it a game trying to figure out your identity. When that happens, we have to make sure we’ve muddied their points of reference. The most obvious one right now is that you’re still in school, from then on it can be narrowed down further. But right now, having a bag might help us. It’ll show people you’re headed somewhere, but you’re still prepared to help if it’s needed.”

“Okay,” said Peter. “I’ll be back in an hour. Maybe two. Love you, sis,” he said, leaving my room.

I pulled out my notebook and colour pencils, starting to sketch out the frame of Peter’s costume. Blue and red, with a symbol centred around spiders. He’d said he wanted something a bright blue and he didn’t mind if the red was darker. I worked on a basic outline and started out a variety of designs, focusing more on where the colours were and the ratio between red and blue.

I stopped at the thirty-minute mark, having made three outlines, then I started make the spider symbol Peter would have on his chest, trying out different spiders. Tarantula with its larger body and its shorter, thicker legs; the Black Widow which the sharply shaped abdomen—I scratched this one out because Black Widow was an Avenger and the motif might be confusing for some; and the Daddy Long Legs, which Peter had been using a variant of with first iteration costume.

Next was my own. I hadn’t figured out my name yet, but it would have to be bug related, both because of my powers and because I’d be working with Peter. Maybe directing people towards thinking about spiders? But then I’d also have to have a bug symbol on my chest and I’d have to make it distinct enough that if we were ever selling merchandise, people would be able to tell us apart.

Bug related, but not spider. It had to be an insect people weren’t scared off, which meant cockroaches, fleas or ticks were off the table, not mentioning their villainous leanings on a symbolic level. But it also had to be something actually cool, I couldn’t use a caterpillar or a butterfly, and though a ladybug might work, it might mean I’d have to change my colour scheme to red and black.

Ants, the go-to, I couldn’t use because Ant Man was a thing, and wasps and bees were out because they killed people. It’d be a reminder that I’d killed people. It had been the right decision at the time, the smart decision, but it left something.

“Remember who you’re not trying to be,” I muttered to myself.

What was it they’d called me: Khepri, the Egyptian God of creation, movement of the sun and rebirth. I hadn’t created anything, but at the end of it I’d been forcing Scion to move through worlds, and when he’d been defeated, I’d given humanity the chance at rebirth.

It felt like it was at its own volition that my hand started sketching out a beetle, filling it in with black, making its borders deep as I pressed hard against my pencil. People hadn’t been doing it right. They’d been causing _shit_ while the worlds were ending around them, some of them hiding and hoping Scion would pass them by when the inevitable was coming, others doing worse.

I noticed I was breathing hard, the anger closer to the surface and my bugs reacting to it. Subconsciously I’d been pulling the closer, layering them in the walls of our building and clustering them in vents so they could come to me at first opportunity.

I looked at the scarab, letting myself wallow. Maybe I could use it, affix it on my chest and have it be a reminder of what I didn’t want to be. Dr Yamada had said I had a penchant for compartmentalising, locking my problems into neat boxes and then moving forward without ever disturbing them, this was the same thing about me Clockblocker hadn’t liked, because it had meant I couldn’t really focus on the consequences of my actions.

Having a scarab on my chest would stop me pushing everything back. It would be a constant reminder. But it would also be unhealthy. I’d be so fixated on the past, I wouldn’t be able to move forward. I’d question every decision I made, fearing it might lead me down the path to Khepri.

I lifted my pencil, poise to scratch the symbol out, but I stopped. Maybe it couldn’t be a constant reminder, but it would still have to serve as such. I pulled out the piece of paper, searched through my room until I found clear tape. I called forward my bugs, having them take out the piece of paper and the tape, the pulled it into the vents, and stuck as firmly as they could.

“It’s only by remembering who we were that we can change,” I muttered to myself, using some of the bugs to trace the scarab, giving me an impression of it in my mind. I had them patrol the piece of paper, so the image would be there, something hanging at the back of my mind, easier to access if I ever thought about going the same paths.

No scarabs, bees or wasps, which meant I still didn’t have a name.

Maybe Ladybug wouldn’t be such a bad name, but would it make sense when I couldn’t fly?

I’d had so much trouble figuring out a name in my first life and it seemed like the problem was coming around in this reality too. Hopefully I got a chance to choose my name this time.

***

Bugs scurried out onto walls and clustered together. I could see Peter in his room, checking himself over. He was dressed in costume and he was inserting web cartridges into his web shooters. I focused on other parts of the apartment, bugs I’d hidden away in May’s hair. She was in her room and wasn’t moving much. I had some enter, moving towards a dark corner and clustering together until I could see her.

“May’s asleep,” my bugs said and Peter jumped, turning quickly in the directly the voice had come. He let out an audible breath, muttering something under his breath I couldn’t quite catch. “I’m checking if the coast is clear for the neighbouring buildings. Give me a sec.”

“Okay,” said Peter.

I checked other apartments, feeling out for people who were still awake. It was just after ten, which meant there were some people still up, either watching television or doing other things. I tracked their attention, seeing if any of them would be close to see us as we moved. A few cars entered my range, moving in my direction, but it would take them a while until they were driving through my street.

“Let’s go,” I said. “Make it quick, cars incoming.”

Peter moved to his window as I did the same. I stepped onto the fire escape, but Peter used the wall to crawl towards me. I was wearing a green hoodie, though my arms hadn’t been ripped off like Peter’s, and the black jeans and the boots. Even if the boots were old, they were comfortable and they made for good running.

“No bugs,” Peter commented. “Good.”

 _“Move,”_ I said. He didn’t need to know that I had bugs under my clothes. “Cars incoming.” He jumped down and I climbed onto his back. He continued climbing, easily so until we were on the roof. He stood straight, fixing me so I was more comfortable then he started running, leaping without worry across buildings.

Compared to Bitch’s dogs, when Peter wasn’t swinging around like a maniac, he was a bearable method of transportation. I let him move while I focused on the bugs in my range and started moving them, not sending them towards me, but having them travel ahead of me so I’d have an excess when we reached our target.

Peter moved too fast and some of my bugs weren’t fast enough. I tapped him thrice and slowed.

“Don’t stop, but move slower.”

He nodded, keeping his pace and only moving faster when he was getting momentum for a jump. I focused on my bugs, feeling out for anything suspicious and doing my best to collect the best bugs I could get, paying attention to the spiders. They were a resource, even if they weren’t the grade I was used to. I had flying bugs cart the spiders towards me. My ability didn’t give me an intuitive sense of the type of spiders, which meant I would have to check them out, research and see which had the strongest silk to use for our placeholder costumes.

“Oh, man,” Peter muttered as the first of the spider ferrying flies and roaches came towards us. Peter didn’t stop, but the spiders jumped off, landing on me and finding places to perch while we ran. A few on my stomach died when I bumped against Peter, I spread this out so they were on my back.

“About to jump,” said Peter. I took a breath and focused more on my bugs than my body. I felt the space we were moving towards, it was too large for just a jump, even so Peter moved faster and then _leapt._ The wind rushed past us. I heard the hiss of his web shooters shooting, felt the jolt, but it was a distance away, instead what was stronger were the bugs in my range: A mass of fleas which were on a group of three people and seven dogs. I focused on them, having them search for any eggs they might have laid and then pulling them towards me. I’d use the fleas as food for my spiders.

Peter landed with a grunt, stumbling a little before he righted himself and kept running, hopping from rooftop to rooftop.

“Straight line swing,” he said and he jumped off a building, swinging in an arc with a slight curve, but better than the dramatic shift in direction. He did this twice before we moved higher and landed on another rooftop.

We stopped and I got off. He was breathing hard.

“Yeah,” he said. He sat down, lying on his back. “I haven’t felt tired in a long time, but the running finally did it. I’m going to sit. You do your thing.”

I nodded, focusing on my bugs and feeling out through my range. It was cold, which meant my bugs wouldn’t fare well when they were outside their warm homes, but I kept them clustered together, hoping the warmth would keep them long enough I could be done with this in ten minutes.

It was an invasion, but the same rules didn’t apply here as they had in Earth Bet. I could search through homes without worrying about being singled out. I searched every place I could, even rifling through homes for anything large enough I was guaranteed a payment by the Crime Stoppers. Three minutes and I hadn’t found anything, instead founding a stash of implements for partaking and a bag that seemed suspicious.

I thought about destroying it, but that might set off the user and they might take it out on those around them. Unless I was about to get them arrest for being a user, hiding their stash wouldn’t do anything except cause trouble.

“Spider-Man,” I said. Peter sat up. “That way. Drunk driver. He’s driving slowly, but he’s gone into incoming traffic three times. Bugs will lead the way.”

“Right-o,” he said. He jumped off his feet and then off the building. I felt him as he moved through the street, covering two blocks in quick order. He arrived and jumped onto the hood of the car, forcing the driver to come to a stop.

“What the fuck,” the driver muttered.

“Hello, sir,” said Peter, his voice chipper. “You seem to have had a little too much to drink tonight.”

“You’re…that guy, from YouTube,” the man said, slurring some of the words.

“Yep, your friendly neighbourhood, Spider-Man. I’m going to have to take your keys,” he said. “Can’t have you putting other drivers in danger.”

“Um…No,” he said. “This could be you stealing my car. I’m going to drive away now.” The car lurched forward. Peter jumped back, standing in front of the car. He thrust out and he stopped the car from moving forward.

“If I wanted to steal your car, then it’d be pretty easy,” said he said. “Could you stop accelerating, please?”

The car stopped. Peter walked to the side and tested the door. It opened. He took the driver’s key out.

“I’m going to call the police now,” he said. “They’ll keep you safe until you sober up.”

“You don’t need to do that, man,” said the man. “You already have the keys. You could drive me home.”

“Um…I don’t have a licence,” said Peter, “and it wouldn’t do if _I_ broke the law.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell them you flagged me down when saw you weren’t good to drive. I don’t think they’ll arrest you.”

The man only sighed. Peter called.

“Hello,” he said, “this is Spider Man calling. I’ve just gotten the keys of a drunk driver and I’m a little confused how I’m supposed to move forward…No, this isn’t a joke. Yes,” and he sighed, “this is the guy from YouTube. No, seriously, this isn’t a joke. If you don’t come get this guy or something, then I’ll be forced to take him home, which means leaving his car here and the possibility it might get stolen…. Yeah, I get it. Sure thing, I’ll wait.”

Time passed, the driver falling asleep after a short argument with Peter that he would have been home already if Peter had let him drive. A car passed by, slowed and then reversed, a woman taking out her phone and pointing it towards Peter. Peter waved and, after a moment, the woman waved back.

It took a little over ten minutes before a cop car showed up, sharing a quick conversation with Peter, before my brother swung towards me.

“You were watching?” he said as he landed.

I nodded. “You did good. One way or another you made an impression,” I said.

“Cool. Find anything?”

I shook my head. “We do this two more times before we retire for the night.”

Peter nodded. I got on his back and we were off.

We found nothing in the next group of blocks, and the next, and the next two. I kept collecting useful bugs, collecting fleas from what was starting to look like a sizable homeless community.

“That sucks,” Peter muttered when I told him this.

“Sucks more because there isn’t a handy way we can help them,” I said and sighed, running a hand through my hair. It had stopped reminding me of Mom since the change of bodies, it had stopped being dark but taken on a brunette colour which edged a little on the dark side—still not dark as I was used to though. It meant I hadn’t had the same emotional attachment and I’d been free to cut it shorter.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Maybe when we have money, we can…like, cart around food? Give it to them? There are soup kitchens, but…I really don’t know what to do otherwise.”

“It’s a good idea,” I said. I stopped, feeling something. “I think I just found a hidden greenhouse.”

“Weed?” I nodded. “Should I make the call?”

I shrugged. “I’m suddenly wondering if we should. It’s small, about the size of a bathroom, which doesn’t make me think this is a legit operation. Maybe we should hold off making the call until it’s something bigger, more arrests?”

“I feel like you’re too focused on the money that you’re forgetting what this is about. We’re here to stop crime, and with your power we can stop it without the flash of my power. Having a weed farm is a crime.”

“Give me a minute, I want to figure something out,” I said. While still searching my greater range, I focused my attention on the apartment, getting a feel for the person who lived there. It was a family of four, three adults and one kid: Two adults were in the same bed, the other adult in their own room and the kid in their own. There were two guns in the apartment, but a gun said nothing. There seemed to be more guns in this America than I was used to in Earth Bet America.

They seemed to have a comfortable enough life, they didn’t live in luxury, but they could afford. I searched for any uniforms, something to tell me they had another source of income besides selling weed and I only found a nurse’s uniform. Of course, this didn’t mean they weren’t working, but without evidence, it was safer to assume they mainly lived through selling weed.

I sighed.

“We’re not making the call, are we?” Peter asked.

“I’m thinking about sources of income,” I said. “If we take this away from them, then…I don’t know. I don’t like the possibility we’d leave this family worse off for a relatively light drug. I know what they’re doing is illegal, but…”

“Sometimes law can be wrong?” he said.

I shrugged. “Sometimes laws need to be questioned if it doesn’t serve the people,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Okay.” He pulled up his sleeve, glancing at his watch. “Little after midnight. A few more blocks and then go home?”

I nodded and we left. We didn’t find what we were looking for, with the only thing noteworthy being Peter escorting a gaggle of girls who’d chosen to walk from a club.

“You really should have taken a cab,” Peter was saying as they walked. Three of the girls weren’t listening, but one was paying _a lot_ of attention to him. It was creepy since she was very likely in her early or mid-twenties, especially so when she was _flirting._

Peter seemed not to notice and it was something to listen in as he blithely moved past her attempts at getting what I was thinking might be a date out of this.

“Picture!” one of the girls said when they were in front of their apartment. And then it quickly turned into a drunken mantra.

“Maybe next time, ladies,” said Peter and he leapt, swinging away. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to have a picture taken with drunk people…right?” he said to me.

“Double edged sword. Some people are stupid, they could use it to bad mouth you for being the drunken hero. But others would see what you’re doing for what it was,” I said. “It’s a toss-up.”

Peter shrugged.

“Nothing else,” I said. “Let’s get home. We want to be able to wake up early tomorrow, exercise.”

Peter groaned. “We’re still doing that?”

“Yeah. What made you think we weren’t?”

“You said we’d start sparring. I thought running would be obsolete.”

“Running is never obsolete,” I said. “And unlike you, I need to build up stamina.”

“I do too,” he said. “It’s just the bar is higher. Which means I have to run a whole lot longer before I’m tired enough to start working on stamina.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“My power doesn’t exactly grow,” I said. “It’s not like…I can control twenty bugs today, but if I keep pushing, I’ll be able to control twenty-one the next day. It’s more, I do what I do, nothing more, nothing less and I have to work at the nuances. I thought the same might be true for you too, that your power gives you a maximum strength and you just live with it.”

“Nope,” said Peter. “My powers grow. Except the preternatural balance. I don’t really see how that can grow. But most of everything else can. I’m betting if I did yoga I’d be a lot more limber.”

My head snapped towards Peter. “You know, May would love that.”

“No,” said Peter. “I am _not_ doing yoga. That was just a joke.”

***

“Hey, May,” I said. Peter was in the kitchen eating, Aunt May was already dressed for our run. I wasn’t, instead wearing sweats. “I was thinking you could maybe lead us through yoga.”

Aunt May’s breath hitched and a massive smile spread on her. Peter shot me a scowl, which quickly melted when Aunt May looked in his direction, and returned when she looked away and he looked at me.

‘I’ll get you for this,’ he mouthed, going along as Aunt May had us push away the furniture, setting up the floor for the amateur yoga.


	4. Chapter 4

**Dynamic Duo**

**1.4**

“And then Jessica was all in my face, telling me how I shouldn’t be talking to her man.”

I heard the words, but they werefar away. I was in the cafeteria, other students spread into their cliques and talking. I had bugs on each of them, tracking and paying the minimum amount of attention to make sure I wouldn’t be surprised by sudden movements. School had been horrible at Winslow, and here it was bearable only because I’d chosen to put myself through this.

Dad had been disappointed in me for not finishing school; Mom would have been too if she’d lived long enough; and now, Aunt May would be equally disappointed if I stopped, even if I could easily make it if I went through the GED path. Boring or not, even if I couldn’t hold back my contempt of being in this place again, I wasn’t about to stop.

“It’s like…why would I even do that?” Su was saying, her voice filled with so much passion. “Diego and I are friends. _Have_ been friends since forever, and she thinks she can pop up out of nowhere and tell me to stay away from my friend?”

Su took a long breath, taking a few bites out of her food. I focused on the school and how students moved; on the surrounding blocks and got a feel of how people were moving; and the cluster of spiders already working on Peter and my costume. Even with whatever the Faerie Queen had done to me, to my power, it still retained most of the things it had learnt from me. When I’d been Weaver, I’d spent a lot of time making standard issue costumes while being locked up; here that meant my power had a basic framework to work off of, and I just had to make minor alterations here and there.

“I’m getting worked up,” said Su. She stopped, taking a few breaths. “And I shouldn’t. Diego will sort this out.”

I shrugged. “Boys can be stupid.”

“You say that about everyone,” she returned. “If you didn’t think _you_ can be stupid too, I’d be worried.”

I couldn’t help snorting. Most of our interactions were her speaking and me focusing on my bugs. I’d say a few words here and there, but for the most part, there was nothing. Su seemed to like it though and I didn’t mind entirely, even if the conversations weren’t interesting.

“Dashawn is throwing a party at his place this weekend,” she said. “Thinking about going and it’d be awesome if I had my friend with me.”

“Parties aren’t my scene,” I said, most of my attention still on the costumes. I’d hidden them in a little space between the lockers and a wall, with other bugs in the area keeping vigil to make sure no one dug around. It was improbable they would be found, but it helped to be suspicious.

Su hummed. “Nothing seems to be, not even movies,” she said and shrugged. “Didn’t expect you to, though, just wanted you to know it was a thing. Onto something to make you pay attention to me instead of spacing off. Frank Castle, the murderous vigilante in Hell’s Kitchen. He _escaped.”_

“That’s…the guy who started shooting up a hospital, right?” I said.

“It’s surprising you have trouble remembering him,” she said. “He made headlines for like a week.”

“Right. I remember, the Punisher. That name was more resonant that Frank Castle, to be honest.”

He’d caused a lot of media coverage of vigilantism and whether it should be accepted or not. This world was just starting to face problems Earth Bet had started addressing through legislation, setting aside laws to deal with people like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen or the Punisher, as he’d been given the moniker.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had been the real starting point on a human scale. He’d beaten down guys, culling a Russian operation from Hell’s Kitchen and then finally broke through the large corruption which had been facilitated by Wilson Fisk. Through him, there’d been a sort of acceptance for the growing trend of the local superhero, those who were more involved than the Avengers—as I saw it, their role was showing up, sorting things out and then disappearing.

But the Punisher had dashed the Devil’s work, instead showing how violent things could be when a deranged individual took justice in their own hands.

At first, I’d wanted to sort myself out, stay away from being a superhero until I came to terms with everything after Scion. I’d thought it would be six months, getting accustomed to this world, to this life and having a new body, a new family. But six months had turned into a year, and then a year and a half because connecting with them had seemed more important. I’d seen things happen, felt the call to go out in costume again, but the mistrust had been stronger then, the memories of losing myself as I was subsumed by my passenger closer to the surface.

My bugs had helped and hindered, but more than anything the implanted memories by the Faerie Queen had helped the most. Letting myself live vicariously through the memories and then reinforcing them by interacting with Peter and Aunt May. The quasi-therapy had helped some, but it didn’t compare to Dr Yamada, an unhealthy comparison when I thought about it.

Even so, I hadn’t been ready to be a hero, to go out again, even if it would have served a greater good. But Peter getting his powers, being thrust into an environment post-Punisher, there was no choice _but._ Or maybe, it had eased my resistance towards being a hero, something I’d wanted to do since falling into this world.

“You know,” said Su. “If you hadn’t head-butted Christian, I’m sure people would be picking on you for being the creepy girl.”

“Would they?” I said.

“Yep. Even when we talk you’re always staring blankly off into space,” she told me. “It bad at the best of times, but _very_ bad when you’re in class. It’s why Ms Castillo doesn’t like you. You just _exude_ boredom.”

“I don’t drool or anything, right?” Su shook her head. I shrugged. “As long as I look good, I’m fine.”

“Ehh. Wouldn’t say _good._ I wouldn’t say creepy if you looked good.”

I smiled, taking a bite out of my sandwich and feeling the movement through my bugs. There’d been nothing strange in my range, but I noticed one cluster of bugs had been in one position for the last hour, only moving slightly before returning.

I got more bugs on their person, moving the fleas on standby as food for my spiders. They were the most discrete bugs in my arsenal. In a few seconds I got a good image of the person, they were carrying a knife and a gun was strapped to their leg. More than anything though, were the small bags they had.

A cluster of fleas moved to a bag and started to open it. One flea went in and summarily died. Good enough indication these were hard drugs. I started moving fleas into all the bags, not enough to be noticed, but enough for the quality to be in question. Long run move to destabilise whatever organisation he was part of, if there was one. But right now, I had someone to follow in the efforts to track a greater organisation.

“I’m skipping,” I told Su.

“People will notice.”

I shrugged “Something I’ve got to do,” I said.

Su shrugged. I got my bag and started moving, still tracking the person as they sold their wares. I went to recover the costume I was working on, dodging security as they moved through the school. I wasn’t liked by some teachers, which meant the same feeling extended to the security officers who wanted an in with the teachers. If they saw me and noticed lunch would be over soon, they might stop me and make a show of sending me to class.

I might still be able to work, but I might be in a bad mood and no one wanted that.

I left the school building and started a leisurely walk, studiously ignoring the people who were giving me odd looks. Being fourteen sucked because if I wasn’t at school, it looked odd just walking around. But I didn’t care, it was unlikely anyone would say anything and if they tried to stop me, I’d just scream and run in the ensuing chaos.

My target started to move and I followed. He was half a block away, and I wasn’t getting any closer, but I moved so if he suddenly got in a car, I could move so he always stayed in my range.

I pulled out my phone out:

 **Me** : Skipping school. Following a lead. Maybe we might have something.

 **Petey** : Need my help? I could skip too.

 **Me** : Nah. Got this handled.

 **Petey:** K. Stay safe.

I started searching for news on the Punisher and the situation in Hell’s Kitchen. He was a large reason why I was focusing so much on PR with Peter. The shift in sentiment the Punisher had caused could, if it wasn’t changed back, mean police were more likely to just shoot when they caught a cape, comparing them to Punisher’s ilk rather than looking at them from an individual level. The Devil wasn’t helping the case too, because though he was doing good work, he was a PR nightmare.

I groaned, earning a few glances, an image of Imp and Regent shone through my mind. They’d be so disappointed in me for saying anything but praises of the Devil’s work, citing _me_ in my tenure as Skitter.

A breath, long and deep, spent focusing on the emotions. The impulse was just to push them back, but I had to deal with it. Regent was dead, sacrificed himself for…love? Friendship? A statement that even the most screwed up could do something _good._ Imp was probably with Grue and the rest of the Undersiders, hopefully putting the worlds back together again.

I missed them, missed the others but not enough to deal with everything that would follow me controlling everyone.

My guy stopped at a diner, taking a table and ordering, _eating._ I felt a pang, reached for my wallet and checked my stash. The good thing about having ranged powers was being able to cover a _lot_ of space, and with the individual control over my bugs crossed with multitasking, it meant I could scour my range for lost money.

It wasn’t enough to be our main revenue, but it helped when I needed spare cash.

I stopped, got some tea and doughnuts while I walked. There was a dog-walker who was trying to wrestle four dogs. He wasn’t having much luck and there was a general sense of disapproval for the people around him. I wondered what Bitch would say, most likely point out everything the man was doing wrong while _looming_ over him.

A man sat in front of my guy. My guy looked up.

“I’m eating,” my guy said, “so piss off.”

The man tutted. “Bad thing to say to your new boss,” said the man. “Well…not your boss, but I represent him.” I moved bugs through the diner, discrete because I didn’t want the place to close down. There weren’t too many patrons and those present were starting to leave save a few.

All those who remained had guns.

My guy noticed. “This you trying to intimidate me?” he said and snorted. “Because I work for scary people.”

“People connected to Hell’s Kitchen,” said the man. “We know. We also know people in Hell’s Kitchen are losing their power since Fisk went to the slammer. His reach is fading.”

I found a corner, gathered bugs and the image was clearer. My guy was thin, well dressed for his trade, looking distinctly average. The other guy was slightly bigger, long hair tied a ponytail, and clothes which looked out of date, but with a modern feel.

“I mean, the guy’s trying I’ll give him that. But between the Devil, the Punisher and who knows however many of these super people are showing up, he’s outmatched,” the man continued.

“And let me guess, you’re trying to fill in the vacuum?” my guy said. The man shrugged. My guy snorted. “Fisk is nothing compared to what I’ve seen. So is the Devil. This isn’t a fight you want to pick.”

“Either way, we will,” said the man and he gestured. The people keeping guard started moving, fists primed. My guy shifted, moving to come to a stand, grabbing his more easily accessible knife and starting to pull it out only to fail.

It was surrounded in silk. I must have done it, even without consciously realising it. The small opening, the small confusion, was enough for the first of the other gang to punch. My guy couldn’t dodge and the punch landed, he stumbled back, hitting his table with a grunt.

Another punch from another man and my guy ducked under it, delivering a quick punch to the side; he turned, hitting the guy who’d punched him hard enough the man stumbled back, faltering and hitting the ground. The man who’d been hit at the side punched but my guy batted it aside, spun and delivered a kick which sent the man stumbling back.

Others were getting closer, with pony tail coming to a stand. He reached into a pocket, pulling out a piece of metal and putting it on, closing a fist: A knuckleduster.

“Stay back,” said Pony Tail.

“We’re doing this?” said my guy.

Pony Tail shrugged, holding up his fists in a boxer’s stance. While they played, it would be time for me to work. I paid attention to spiders and saw a large amount of them had already been moving towards the fight. My passenger already knowing my intentions?

I stopped, not with my power but my body. I took a breath, focusing on me and on my body, moving my fingers and stretching, feeling the nipping wind as it hit me in place. I moved my face through a variety of expressions.

“She sells sea shells as the seashore,” I said, earning me looks, not that I cared. I pictured Dad’s face, then Mom’s, Peter, Rachel, Lisa, Aunt May, Brian, Aisha, Dragon and Dr Yamada. I immersed myself in their memories, immersed myself in being able to remember them.

Through my bugs, I listened to conversations, being able to understand them anchoring me.

“Miss,” I heard, not from my bugs but from my ears. It was a couple, the woman leading. “I think you’re having a panic attack.” She had water and a pill. “It’s okay, just breathe, calm down. It’s over, they’re not here anymore.”

My mind moved on automatic, piecing together context. An invasion had happened here so long ago, an Endbringer level event. These people were still reeling, not having gotten accustomed to it as Earth Bet had become.

“I’m in control,” I muttered, taking deep breaths, keeping myself calm even if I wasn’t _panicking._ “I’m in control.”

**I’m in control.**

I took control of the spiders because they were mine. My passenger gave me the power, but I was the one who wielded it. Spiders spread out across the five men, binding weapons the ticks had identified across all of them. I started setting up lines, connecting them so a trap could close if they moved to suddenly. Bugs started filling in the walls, waiting for _my_ order.

I didn’t have them attack.

My guy was stumbling back, holding one side. Pony Tail had landed a punch and my guy was reeling. He got up and moved forward, striking. Pony Tail stepped back, dodging the punch and striking. My guy ducked low, leg extending and sweeping. Pony Tail jumped and my guy contorted, rising, his legs flailing and striking.

Pony Tail landed, rolled and came to his feet.

“Gao,” said Pony Tail. “Aren’t you a little too black for her?”

My guy shrugged. “Goa knows making money isn’t about colour.”

“Smart,” said Pony Tail. “Is it true she’s into some freaky shit, too? Heard she’s Enhanced or Inhuman or whatever.”

 _“More,”_ said my guy.

“Well, then this needs to be done. Ox.”

The largest of the men moved, he grabbed a counter and pulled, wrenching it out of its fixture. I felt as my guy’s heart picked up.

“Don’t kill him,” said Pony Tail.

Ox cocked back to throw but he didn’t get that far, bugs descending. I felt as my power moved to bite, to go for the eyes, but I held it back. I couldn’t be Skitter, couldn’t be Weaver. I had to be better. But how when my power was _used_ to being them? When I’d imparted more of them than myself into my passenger?

Ox swung, but he didn’t throw, instead trying to bat the bugs back. People reached for guns and found they couldn’t pull them out, others tried to run, because being swarmed by bugs, even if they weren’t fighting, was supposedly horrifying. They tried and failed, the silk lines going taut and causing most to trip and fall.

My guy started running towards the door, but bugs fell over him, going into his ears. He batted them back, but this was futile. There were too many bugs and it was hard to crush them all, even the brute was having trouble.

But this wouldn’t help me in _containing_ them.

I was sitting and the couple were still over me, giving me worried looks. I’d been too focused on the fight, on controlling the bugs and not giving any leeway to my passenger and my body had been on autopilot. I tracked back memory of what had happened: Nothing much, save me looking off into space and the couple trying and failing to talk to me.

I pulled out my phone, Peter answered.

 _“Taylor I’m in class,”_ he said. _“And my phone’s about to get taken away.”_

“It’s an emergency,” I said. “Can you give the phone to whoever?”

 _“Sure,”_ he said.

_“You’re aware that Mr Parker—”_

“This is Taylor. I need my brother. I’m having a panic attack.”

 _“Oh,”_ the man said. _“A moment.”_

_“Yeah?”_

“I’ll send you the location. I need you,” I said. I looked at the couple. “Thank you, but I’m fine now. My brother should be here soon.”

“Are you sure?” said the woman. “We can wait.”

“Honey,” said the man. He got close, whispering. “It might be counterintuitive, but…this’ll help. Her mantra.”

The woman didn’t like it, but she nodded. “Okay. Okay,” she muttered. They started walking away.

The brute was causing more damage than I would have like. He’d learnt trying to leave forced bugs into his mouth and instead he was just recklessly moving around, bumping and breaking things as he went.

Bugs congealed into a mass.

“Oh God,” one said. “Oh God, please, no. I promise. I promise I’ll stop.”

“Then stop,” I said. “Don’t move.”

He and some others stopped, but the brute still tried to move. More bugs fell on _him,_ his nose and ears, not stopping him from breathing but causing him to choke. I started spooling out silk, having it gather and trying to weigh him down. There weren’t enough bugs for the process to be swift.

My phone rang and I picked up.

 _“What’s going on?”_ said Peter, wind rushing past him.

“I’ve got some people,” I said. “Low key turf war that was starting to break out. I stopped it and I have them in place but capturing is hard. I need you to do that.”

“So you’re not in danger?”

“I’m blocks away,” I said. “But you’ll need to be careful. There’s a brute there.”

“I still don’t know what that is,” he said. He took a breath and then there was more whooshing.

“Power classifications,” I said. “For you to get a sense of the powers you’ll be up against. Brute is…a tank. Someone who can take hits or hit back hard.”

“Sort of like me?” said Peter.

“Sort of like you, yes. But we don’t know the limits of their strengths so that means…”

“Is this a test?”

“You can consider it one.”

“Okay,” said Peter. “I don’t know their strength, which means there’s a chance they might be stronger. So…I shouldn’t make this about strength.”

“Good,” I said. “I’ve effectively won and I didn’t make it about strength.”

“Right. Bugs in eyes and ears, Capsaicin, _destabilise.”_

“But since my methods won’t work for you?”

“Change it up, make it about footing and keeping him off balance. Hopefully his strength doesn’t have some strange physics bullshit which means he’ll have to leverage it,” he said. “I just have to stop him from doing that. I’m here, hanging up.”

He’d been moving so fast he’d slipped every bug in my range. He arrived with a swing, landed and then pushed the door open. Good thing he hadn’t caused property damage, better that it be pinned on the villains.

“Hello, guys,” said Peter. “I’ll be apprehending you today. Hey, partner,” he said to the bug clone.

“Hello,” I returned through my bugs. “I’ve done most of the work, you just have to bag ‘em up.”

Peter pointed. “What about that guy?” he said, pointing at the brute who was still struggling. All the bugs fell away from the brute, the man shuddered, letting out a relieved breath.

“Training day,” I said. “No one else gets involved.” Ox was coughing as he came to a stand. “Ox, beat Spider-Man and you earn your freedom.”

“What?” it was Peter who spoke. He gave my bug clone a look.

“I didn’t stutter.”

I couldn’t see Peter frown, but I was sure he was. He was quiet, still looking at me when Ox moved. He grabbed a table and threw. Peter, even still looking in my direction, dodged and stuck to the ceiling. He pointed and shot, catching Ox by the arm. Peter leapt past Ox, pulling the arm and sending the man spinning.

He quickly sent out a salvo of webs, all of them hitting Ox before he could get up, sticking him to the floor. Ox grunted, trying to get up and finding he couldn’t. Pony Tail used the opportunity to get up and run, moving towards the kitchen. Peter moved to chase.

“No,” I said. “Let him run. It’ll send a message.”

Peter looked at me again and I could see by his body language he was frowning.

“Police,” I told him. He nodded and called.

I tracked as the man moved, getting up and starting to move. I got a cab and told the driver to wonder. He shrugged but asked me for money upfront. More cash I was spending when I didn’t have money.

“Pulling away,” I said through my bugs. “Play nice with the police.”

Peter nodded. I pulled back the bugs as I followed Pony Tail.

“You can stop now,” I said, as the car Pony Tail was in stopped in an apartment building, rushing up the stairs. Most likely he was going to his boss, and through his boss I would get more of a picture of their operation. Peter and I would get our money soon.

But I couldn’t help but be disappointed in myself, because I knew Peter would be too and I wasn’t sure if my explanation would do any good.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dynamic Duo**

**1.5**

“You weren’t followed?” I heard. I’d paid for and left the cab, found a cafe and was pretending to be going over my phone. Pony Tail had entered an apartment building, going up to one of a few empty apartments on the third floor.

“No,” said Pony Tail. “Even switched cars while in traffic. I doubt the Spider could’ve tracked me, but…you never know with these Inhumans. I’m not sure if there was another one or if it was part of the Spider’s powers, but…there were _bugs,_ they were smart and they could _talk.”_

“More of these people popping up,” the man I assumed was the boss said. I heard a sigh. “Ox?”

“Caught. The…Swarm, it told Spider Man to take down Ox. It was a training day thing.” Pony Tail took a breath, opening his mouth then closing it.

“What?” said the Boss. Pony Tail said nothing. “Speak. It is might be useful.”

I’d gathered enough bugs to see them. The Boss was shorter than Pony Tail, thinner and wearing clothes reminiscent of the Number Man, more accountant than crime lord. Even so, he stood with confidence that said he wasn’t new to power. I didn’t think I knew of any criminal empire in Queens, not that I’d been paying much attention, but he was worth paying attention to.

“It’s…it might be nothing,” said Pony Tail. “But there’ve been rumours on-line. About bugs taking down muggers. It’s been on and off, but it’s something that’s been there for a while.”

I hadn’t been a hero in this life, most of it had been spent with my new family, trying to get to grips with everything. But there had been those moments when things had just happened, when I’d wanted to do something that came naturally or a crime had been happening in my range.

The Boss sighed. “Stuff like this is supposed to only happen in Hell’s Kitchen,” he muttered. “But it’s _spreading, festering._ Luke Cage in Harlem, the Drunkard in Hell’s Kitchen, now Spider Man and this Swarm here.”

“We had Ox, but…” Pony Tail shrugged.

“There’s still his twin brother,” said the Boss. “Do we know how Ox got his powers?”

“He was taking his supplements and then…rock and then strength,” said Pony Tail.

“Then send someone to get all his things,” the Boss said. “We’ll have his brother take the supplements. If that doesn’t take, he’ll eat everything Ox ate, spray every deodorant he did and even use the same shower if it’s something in the water. I’ll be working on Ox, seeing if there isn’t anyone who can help matters along.”

“There’s someone else who could help us,” said Pony Tail. “Outfit us.”

The Boss shook his head. “We don’t have the capital yet. Not to outfit everyone in our crew, but maybe something for you and Fancy Dan. Talk to him, buy something that might help us with the Swarm and Spider Man both.”

Pony Tail nodded. He left while the Boss stayed behind. I thought about which to follow, him or Pony Tail. Who would lead me to the weapons dealer? Maybe call the police on the weapons dealer, get our capital. I put down my phone and glanced at my wallet, four dollars and I didn’t know the destination, didn’t know if Pony Tail was so paranoid that he’d sap my money like he’d done with the cab ride.

I stayed with the Boss. He went to a sofa, taking a bag and pulling out a laptop. He started typing, _working._ I wanted to amass bugs behind him, see the work he was doing, but bug senses didn’t translate directly to human senses. Lights on monitors were worse, my bugs just seeing bright lights with a strong instinct to move towards them.

My phone buzzed, a picture of Peter appearing.

“Yeah?”

 _“Finished talking to the police,”_ he said. _“Where are you now?”_

“In a cafe, sitting, watching the scenery. How did things go on your end?”

 _“It’s…I don’t know. The woman I was talking to told me this wasn’t likely to stick,”_ he said. _“All of them have guns that look stolen, and one guy had drugs—he’s definitely going to jail—but the others might make bail. The_ brute _included.”_

“Sucks.”

Peter sighed. _“Tell me about it,”_ he said.

We both went quiet, different parts of the city reverberating. I turned my attention back to the Boss, he’d taken out his phone and was quickly moving through it. He went back to his computer.

“You’re not going back to school?” I said.

_“Nah. Maybe this is a good time to patrol? Get working on having a buffer for my identity?”_

“Or you could come pick me up? This guy moves and I won’t be able to follow him,” I said. “I’m out of cab fare.”

_“That’s cool too.”_

“Okay.” I dropped the line, focusing on the Boss while sending the text with my location. I found an alley, tracked the people who were moving around, making sure none of them were close when Peter finally arrived.

He didn’t take too long, swooping down, landing. We carried me up the side of the wall and until we got to the roof. We found a sit, legs dangling as we watched cars below.

“Thanks for the mask,” I said. It was a hard-plastic thing, green and with a snarl. The Hulk.

“The guy in charge gave it to me for free,” said Peter. “They’re not selling as much since Hulk attacked Africa.”

“He attacked the whole continent?” I said, giving Peter a look.

“No…” He sighed. “Are you going to be all over me like you are when you’re in a bad mood and you’re a Grammar Hydra?”

I shrugged. “I can let it go. Just…don’t forget that Africa is a continent. I’d be embarrassed if you spent all your time thinking it was a country.”

“Okay,” he said.

We were silent again and I didn’t like it. It made me fill in the blanks, especially since I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t guess what he was thinking.

“You’re upset,” I said, breaking the silence. Peter turned to me. “You’re upset I let the guy go? You’re upset how I dealt with things at the diner?”

Peter sighed. “It’s complicated,” he said and he sighed. Which just made things worse, again it made me rely a lot on my imagination; trying to figure who Peter was as a person, how he acted and his moral core, and then put it all together into figuring him out. Given enough time, given a lot more distance to what I was feeling and maybe I could do it.

But right now…it was all just muddled, coming together in a feeling like I’d taken a step back.

“Communication,” I said. “It’s a good thing. If we let things fester, then…we might end up not liking each other because of this.”

“Is that what you think? That I’m mad at you or something?”

“Yes?” I said, and I couldn’t hold back emotion from bleeding into my voice. “Aren’t you?” I took a breath. “I…I don’t know. I—”

I stumbled, unable to move forward. I tried to put a finger on _why_ I thought Peter would be mad, but devoid from personal stuff, things only I knew and…it was hard. I was too biased. The closest thing that came to mind, though, was Grace, pushing too hard and finding that there was resentment. She hadn’t out-right hated me, but we hadn’t been friends in the end and I think it all stemmed from that. I didn’t want the same thing happening with Peter.

“I’m not mad,” said Peter. “I’m just…worried?” He sighed. “This is complicated because…I might say the wrong thing and you might be mad at me.”

I shook my head. “I’m unlikely to get mad,” I said. “If you have to say something, say it. If you have worries then I need to know about them, to deal or keep an eye on it.”

Peter hesitated. “It has to do with your therapy,” he said. He turned my way, searching to see if I was shrugging it away. “You’ve been better, not going to it as much as you were at first. You’re…I don’t know. Even at first, I didn’t think you had anger issues, but, like…you’ve been more together.”

“You think I’m going to lose it again?” I said. “Do what I did with Flash?”

“Or the people from your school, Christian, Marco, Angelo, Hakeem, Debra, Agatha,” he said and that wasn’t even the full list. I’d still been getting used to this world, with a lot of emotion at the surface. Everything I’d done, though, had been a conscious choice.

“I’m not going to lose it,” I said. “I never lost it in the first place.”

“Which is why I say I never got the angry vibe from you,” he said. “You knew what you were doing, especially with the aftermath. You knew the system, you knew that nothing would happen to you because you’d already figured out how to flip it, make any Judge who gave you a Scared Straight type deal look horrible.”

I’d beat up a lot of people, gone on an impassioned speech that convinced others that _now_ was time for a stand. I’d gone in front of a Judge because one of the kid’s parents had charged me with assault, and I’d managed to get everyone the boy had bullied to stand with me, even going so far to have journalists in the room so that they could see how justice leaned.

The Judge had said I had anger issues and I’d told him that if I was angry, it was for the system as it stood. He’d given me mandatory therapy time and I was thankful that I didn’t have to speak to a real therapist, though Mr Drumm had insisted I at least talk to him.

“You had this sense that you had to fix the world’s problems and you did it with violence,” he continued. “When you had me fight that guy, even if I _knew_ it was getting me to where I’d be able to handle myself, protect myself if you aren’t there, it still reminded me of back then. Using a lot of violence instead of finding another way. It…” he swallowed. “Looking at you, looking at the Swarm, I couldn’t help but imagine my sister as the next Frank Castle. I don’t want that for you.”

“I don’t want that too,” I said. I didn’t want to be like that again. It was too close to what I’d been.

“I…This is selfish, but, I especially don’t want it because it would be _my_ fault. You’re doing this for me, going out, being in costume and—”

“This isn’t on you,” I said quickly. “This is me. I have…issues that I’m trying to deal with.”

“Issues you were done dealing with,” he said. “I’ve been doing some reading on you, the crimes you’ve stopped, and it tracks back at least a year. You’ve had your powers that long and you haven’t gone out. Then I get powers and… _this.”_

“It’s not your fault. It could never be. This is all me,” I said. “I _want_ to do this. I _want_ to be a hero and…you’re partially an excuse. I couldn’t before because I told myself it might be too dangerous, especially with my issues, but when you came around, you were a convenient excuse to get me to this point. Where I’m using my powers and tracking criminals, where I can take down bad guys and feel like I’m doing something _more.”_

“Even if it’s bad for you? Emotionally?”

I shrugged.

“Maybe we should stop all of this while the going’s still good.”

“Would you be able to live with yourself if you did?” I asked. Peter shook his head. “We’re doing this. But…I’ll have to start going to Dr Drumm more often. Speak things through.”

“How are you going to explain the whole powers thing?”

“He knows,” I said. I turned, looking in the vague direction of the Boss. “Our target’s moving.”

I could tell Peter had a lot of questions, but he couldn’t ask as we trailed our target. We moved slow, hopping between building and taking semi-leisurely walks. When the Boss got into a cab we followed much faster, Peter running and leaping across buildings. We moved for thirty minutes before going to a residence.

“Fred is that you?” said a woman’s voice.

“Yeah, it’s me,” _Fred_ said. “Managed to get home early. Is Robbie back yet?”

“Sports,” said the woman. “Then going out with friends. He’ll be back home late.”

“Which means we have some time to ourselves,” he said, an edge to his voice. The woman chuckled.

“We can leave,” I said, pulling my bugs back. “He’s with his family. I feel like I’m intruding.”

“Yeah.”

***

“May’s home,” I said.

“Early,” said Peter. He took a breath and then kept it in. “She knows something is wrong.”

“She’s pacing, so yeah,” I said with a shrug.

He looked at me. _“Why_ aren’t you freaking out,” he said. “She’s gonna freak out and…I don’t even know _what_ she’s going to do. I’ve never been in trouble before. This is—this is—”

“Not worth worrying about,” I said. “Just show her your baby blues and she’ll melt.”

“We have brown eyes.”

I waved it off. “Sentiment’s still the same.”

“You’re too calm,” he said.

“Let’s go,” I said, pulling him along. “Sooner we get it over with…”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

We went, using the roof access to get in. It didn’t take us too long to reach our floor, though it took Peter longer than was necessary to _open_ the door.

“May,” said Peter, his voice breaking a little. “You’re already home.” He gave her a shaky smile.

“Yes,” she said, not smiling. I could hear as Peter swallowed. Aunt May gave him a long look, before her eyes flickered towards me. I caught the micro-expressions and in my mind’s eye I saw a similar expression to Dad’s.

“I pulled Peter out of school,” I said.

Aunt May swallowed, frowned and she seemed stuck. “Tell me it’s not drugs,” she said.

“It’s not drugs,” I said. “It won’t ever be drugs.”

She let out a relieved breath. She sighed. “I don’t want to punish you guys,” she said. “Because it either won’t have an effect,” she looked at me, “or it’ll be too harsh. But what I do need, is the truth and explanation. Why?”

“I was bored,” I lied.

“And you?”

Peter said nothing, only looking at Aunt May without blinking.

“I can’t help but feel you’re thinking up a lie.”

“I…honestly don’t know what to say,” he said. “I didn’t feel like going to school. Taylor offered. I wanted to. I skipped.”

Aunt May took a breath. “I’m really disappointed,” she said. “In both of you.” Not punishment, but the words were a punch to the gut. “I thought you were smarter than this, but…” She sighed, shaking her head. “I have to get started on dinner.”

She moved on over to the kitchen, quiet as she started cooking. Peter and I shared a look before we went to his room.

“That was horrible,” he said.

“Yeah.”

He sighed. “I don’t like this feeling. Disappointing her.”

_“Yeah.”_

“My first arrest, even if it might not stick and…it doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah.”

“This is affecting you more than I thought it would.”

“This is the first time she’s been disappointed,” I said. “It rubs me the wrong way.” I sighed. “I was planning for us to do an after-action report, see what we could do better and how we’ll move forward, but…I feel like going to my room and watching the ceiling, questioning my decisions.”

“Me too if I’m being honest,” he said. “My mind’s not in it.”

“Yeah.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Dynamic Duo**

**1.6**

“They’re free,” I said. Aunt May’s disappointment lingered and for a few days both of us weren’t in the right head space to deal with our greater agenda. Peter had gone on patrol and we’d started our training, sparring sessions for the body and teaching him some of the stuff I’d learnt while being a Ward for the mind.

We still wanted capital, but we’d put it off. I had spiders and they were building our substandard costumes which wouldn’t have padding or the fineries that made them really costumes. But both of us hadn’t felt up to it, feeling as though it would be a disservice to just sneak out.

Even now, we were only slowly getting back into the swing of things.

Peter sighed. We weren’t costumed, instead walking down the street a few blocks away from the police station, my bugs having scoured the place for sign of Ox and his compatriots, paying attention to the brute.

“I knew this would happen, but…” He sighed again.

“We don’t really have the authority to arrest anyone,” I said. “We don’t know the laws, the protocol, how to gather evidence which can be used in court and if it comes to witness statements then we’re no good because they required Iron Man to disarm when they were discussing things around him and Iron Monger. The same will be true for us.”

“You make it sound hopeless,” he said, frowning.

“We need the laws to change, but they won’t change until there’s reason to,” I said. “Which is why we do this. It’ll be slow, but they’ll catch up eventually.” I sighed. “As it stands, we’ll have to learn how to work with the system as it stands.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s studying,” said Peter said. He stopped and looked at me. “I’ll do it, but…”

“We could,” I said with a shrug. “It might actually be better, but I really don’t want to. So we ask someone with more experience, who’s successfully arrested someone or lead to their arrest. We’re going to have to go find the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.”

Peter started walking, hands in his pockets. I followed, both of us headed towards the subway.

“Are you ever going to tell me why your therapist knows about you?” he said. There were people around, but they weren’t focusing on us. “Do you trust that he’s not gonna tell anyone?”

“Maybe we should go up? Talk and walk?”

Peter nodded and we turned into an alley, I kept track of people and when the number of people thinned, we climbed up. Peter pulled out his mask and I pulled out a green balaclava and green hoodie from my backpack. It was inevitable with these things that the Swarm identity would stick. I’d already made appearances as a swarm of bugs and no doubt the information was already being sold to others. But the identity wasn’t about to be me. I wasn’t going to be connected to bugs so closely again that they’d define me.

So a green costume that would lend itself to the identity I would pick for my new hero career.

“When I was dealing with the whole mandatory anger therapy thing, he contacted me,” I lied. “He knew about my powers and he thought they were magic, but they weren’t. My powers are something else.”

“Not Inhuman?” Peter said, glancing in my direction.

“Not Inhuman,” I said and shrugged. “It’s…I just _got_ my powers. I wasn’t bitten by a spider, I didn’t take supplements or whatever is making Inhumans and I don’t have some Super Soldier Serum like Captain America. I just have powers.”

“Stranger things are happening, I guess,” he said. “Like magic suddenly being a thing. Is it really magic? Or is it, and I quote ‘power fuckery’ at work like the whole breaker category of your thing.”

“Can’t tell the difference honestly,” I said. “My motto is, if someone calls what they’re doing magic, then it makes to no difference to me. If they’re an ally, then I have to figure out how it works, what they can do so I can know how to figure out how to play with it. If they’re an enemy then I need to know how it works, what they can do so I can counter it.”

Peter snorted. “You have something of a one-track mind.”

I smacked his arm. “It’s more polite to say goal orientated.”

“What _can_ magic do?” he asked after we’d scaled a few blocks, using his superior mobility to quickly get it done. We were almost at the East River, with only a few blocks before we reached the Queensboro Bridge.

“Not really sure, it’s not like I’ve had time to quiz him,” I said. “Nor have I seen what he gets up to. But he does some dimension work, the inside of his place is much larger than it should be. He also showed me these doors which are portals to other parts of the world. There also other things which might be magic, but he just keeps those behind glass cases.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t talked him to death trying to find out.”

“I don’t talk _anyone_ to death,” I said. “I’m affronted you’d even say that.”

“Well, I will,” he said. “You don’t just hear about magic existing and then stay wilfully ignorant.”

“Fair warning, he calls magic, the ‘Mystic Arts.’ Capitals and everything,” I said. “So be prepared for him to talk circles around you, asking you to figure things out instead of telling you the answer. He can be rather frustrating at the best of times.”

“This is magic,” said Peter. “I’ll put up with it if it means knowing everything I can.”

“Sure,” I said. We swung into the city, Peter keeping most of a straight line and warning me before we had to turn, slowing down and making the curves gentle. It was getting better, but I still wasn’t sure I would get used to the whole swinging thing any soon. It was annoying because it would make mobility even easier, decrease the amount of money spent taking cabs.

“Let’s walk the rest of the way,” I said. “I need to get us some money.”

Peter nodded, both of us chatting while I worked, collecting bugs and having them scour the ground and corners, reaching into the drier parts of the sewers so I could find any money which had been dropped and never been picked up.

“Three hundred,” I said after counting the bills. There were still bugs searching, still others which were making their way towards us with a few bills, but that was my count as we neared Drumm’s house.

“Why don’t we just do this all the time?” said Peter. “It would save us some of the grief of trying to find an operation to report.”

“Higher reward in reporting,” I said with a shrug. “We’re here.”

“Huh,” said Peter. “It’s less magical than I expected it to be.”

“What did you expect, a castle?”

He shrugged, blushing. “Yeah. Hidden by magic,” he said. “If you have it…use it, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I stepped forward, knocking thrice and the door opened as soon as I let go of the knocker. Peter and I stepped in, the door closing behind us. I looked at Peter, trying to gauge his excitement level and he didn’t look impressed.

“We have automated doors at malls,” he said. “Where is this guy, anyway?”

“He’s usually here,” I said, looking around and walking further into the foyer. A light flared on the ground, orange and forming a circle with squares and triangles within. It started sizzling, the lines pushing into the air and then breaking apart into particles of light which started to form an image.

“Okay,” said Peter. “That was pretty cool. But I’ve heard Tony Stark already has holographic tech, so…” He shrugged.

“Taylor,” said the image of Daniel Drumm. He was a tall man, dark skinned and with no hair. He wore clothes with an Asian aesthetic, most likely Chinese but I could be wrong. “And you have a guest.”

“My brother, Peter,” I said. “Is this really you?”

“No,” said the image. “This could be termed as a recording. Altering light to form an image, imparting a set of responses in the abstract. However, it is limited. The only answers I have are those I’ve been given.”

“So you factored in Taylor asking that question?” Peter asked.

“Factored in questions being asked, yes,” said the image. “I’m currently indisposed. It shouldn’t take longer than two hours. Until I return, you have full use of the house, you can peruse the books, but it’s advised you not touch the artefacts.”

“You know,” Peter said. “Advice can be ignored.”

“Yes. It can,” said the image and it disappeared.

“Well,” said Peter, “that was more ominous than I thought it’d be. You’ve been around here. Tour?”

“I mainly stick to his office,” I said. “This is all interesting, sure, but…” I shrugged. “I come here because I have problems. Usually I spend more time thinking on those problems than taking in the magic. That and magic doesn’t really impress me, I keep thinking this is just powers, even if they’re much wider in what they can do.”

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Honestly I’m not impressed too. It’s like, magic is cool, but…it sort of feels like cheating?”

I snorted. “I think you’re just jelly because you didn’t get your letter to Hogwarts.”

 _“Jelly?”_ he said. “Really?” He shook his head “That’s terrible. You sound like a lame parent trying to be ‘hip.’”

Dramatically I slammed my hands against my heart. “You wound me!”

Peter chuckled. “But yeah, there’s a little jealousy there. How cool would it have been to go to Hogwarts?”

“The coolest,” I said. “Let’s check this place out. Maybe see something more magical than this.”

“Yeah.”

We started on the first floor, looking through the various studies. There was nothing outwardly magical about the place, instead it looked like a museum than a house.

“I think this picture is moving,” said Peter. I stood, looking at the thing. It was a landscape painting, a farm filled with wheat swaying in one direction as though blown by the wind. In the middle of this field was a woman with red her, the colouring behind the painting making her look _wrong._

But it wasn’t moving.

“I don’t—” I stopped. I’d glanced at Peter for a millisecond and looked back at the painting to see some of the wheat had changed in how it moved, the woman’s hair was no longer fluttering in one direction but it was covering the woman’s face, a hand outstretched towards us. “Creepy.”

Peter hummed. “I get the feeling she wants help,” he said. He reached and I smacked the hand away.

“Yeah…I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said. “It’s magic. It could suck you in for all we know.”

“Probably right,” he said. “Can you show me the portal room?”

I frowned, looking around. “If I can remember where it was,” I said. “I think there was a long hallway on the second floor.”

The hallways were longer than they should be and I’d never explored the house which meant we quickly got lost. We made a trip of it, checking out the rooms and seeing the type of magic they had. One room was even a training room, with a figure of a man, shorter and thinner than Daniel, appearing.

“Another match?” the man said. A staff appeared out of thin air and he twirled it around, levelling it towards us.

“You want to try it out?” I said. “See how well you fair?”

“Another illusion?” Peter asked and I shrugged. He took off his backpack and pulled out his web shooters and a pair of goggles.

“At some point you’re going to have to stop wearing those,” I said. “Get used to the whole sensory overload thing, see if you can’t use it to your advantage.”

“I’ll work on it,” said Peter. He walked into the room while I stopped at the boundary. “So…how do we start this any way? Do I say go and we fight?”

“A new Master? An Apprentice?” the man said. He got out of his stance, holding his staff straight. “The skill level has been decreased until the appropriate level of mastery can be gauged. We’ll begin at your leisure.”

“Let’s go,” said Peter. The man quickly stepped forward, thrusting his staff. It glowed with light before the tip shot off. Peter ducked low and rolled to the side, quickly jumping up as the man swished, the tip changing direction, heading toward my brother.

Peter landed on the ceiling and quickly fired a web. The man stepped to the side, pulling back the tip of his staff while dodging Peter’s attack. He pointed and fired, but Peter had already jumped off the ceiling, landing close and coming forward with both legs thrusting outward. The kick landed and the man was hurtled back, landing on the ground in a roll, quickly getting back on his feet.

“Arcanum Ego,” the man said. “Greetings, denizen of K’un-Lun.”

“Don’t know what that is,” said Peter. He quickly fired off two threads, but they were dodged. The man was spry as he stepped forward, quickly closing the distance and stabbing; Peter twisted out of the way and fired, a web catching the man in the face while another caught the staff, pulling it from the man’s grip.

“Got your stick,” he said and he hissed as the staff glowed, golden inscriptions appearing on it. The staff didn’t fall to the ground, instead taking off and landing in the man’s grip.

“Your technique is new,” said the man. “Your mastery strange.”

“I’ll take that as you saying I’m awesome,” said Peter, wearing a massive grin, though I could see he was on the alert, watching and waiting, on his guard.

“I feel like this when he tells you he’s not left handed,” I said.

Peter glanced in my direction and that was distraction enough, the man swung and the tip shot out, trailed by a golden rope which twisted in the air. Peter jumped, dodging the tip but the coils of rope caught his leg, went and pulled, slamming him into the ceiling then the ground.

The man whipped and the thread snapped, pulling Peter up only for my brother to catch the ground with his finger, keeping himself from being thrown up. He fired and the man stepped out of the way, whipping his staff again. Peter was able to keep himself from being thrown, but it was hard enough for him to grunt.

He fired a salvo, focusing more on catching the man’s feet. He must have seen something because he suddenly moved, twisting and his body pulling. It worked, the man had been stepping to dodge the webs and his centre of gravity was off. He was pulled forward only to be struck by a web to the face.

The man tried and failed to pull of the web and Peter used that to pull at the staff again, disarming the man and getting out of the hold. The man spent a few more seconds trying to pull away the web before he flickered, appearing in a stand with his staff in his hand. He got into a fighting stance again.

“You brought your brother?” a voice said and I started. Daniel had appeared next to me at some point and I hadn’t even felt him. But then, I didn’t have bugs in his house, _couldn’t_ when I thought about it because even though it was my natural inclination to bring them near. I _wasn’t._

I nodded. “Peter knows about my powers. He has his own, as you can see.” The skill level must have increased because the room was shifting, sections of wall starting to move and impeding how Peter fought. The man moved faster, with more snares whipping through the air.

Peter was doing his best to dodge but the man was slowly wearing him down.

“Yes, I see,” said Daniel. “Have you told him about… _you.”_

I shook my head. “Don’t know how I feel about explaining that, how complicated it all is. I feel like…it’ll be losing too much, especially with what the Faerie Queen did with his and Aunt May’s memories.”

Daniel nodded. “Yet you still brought him here.”

“You helped me. You’ve been helping me through the transition, keeping me on the straight and narrow,” I said. “I’m hoping you’ll keep him from being like me. Give him someone to talk to who isn’t me.”

I caught Daniel looking at me, a frown on him. “You think you’ll turn him into what you once were? In your past life?”

“I’m scared _I’ll_ turn back into what I once was,” I said and I sighed. “I’m…getting back into the game, so to speak, trying to be a hero.” I looked at him, waiting. He didn’t say anything. “You aren’t going to stop me? This isn’t restricted?”

“It was expected,” he said. “Your Faerie Queen and the Ancient One spoke, discussed you and the person you were. They expected this path, that you would do this. This might be false, but a part of me thinks this is the reason why they set things as they did, putting you in a position where you had someone whose innocence you wanted to protect.”

“Manipulation,” I said watching Peter. He hadn’t noticed us speaking, but then it was likely there was magic involved. “I can’t even be angry about it.”

Daniel said nothing.

“This is rude, what we’re doing,” I said.

He flicked forward and I heard something akin to breaking glass. I glanced back, saw how space was warped, shifting edges, bending one over the other, moving towards us. I stayed in place, just as Daniel was doing. The shifting glass swept past, doing nothing.

Peter glanced our way which meant a loop of the golden thread managed to get his arm. He tried to fight, but everything went taut, all the thread closing around him, binding him in place.

“I think I’ve won,” said the man.

“No fair, I was distracted,” said Peter. He was breathing hard and I could see sweat on his forehead. Even so, he was grinning, his eyes wide with excitement. His first fight where he’d had to exert himself. We sparred, but there he had to hold back less he hit me too hard and break my bones.

The man flickered and so too the ropes. He returned to stand in the middle of the room, his staff held in hand.

Peter got up. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “I’m Peter, Taylor’s brother. I’m sure you know everything about me because Taylor can’t stop talking about the most awesome brother she’s ever had.”

“Second, at best,” I said.

“Et tu, Taylor?”

“Pay back for the knife in my heart.”

“Yeah. I deserve it,” he said. “You’re a wizard, huh?”

“A sorcerer,” Daniel corrected. “A Master of the Mystic Arts.”

“Wow,” Peter muttered. “I can just _feel_ the capitals.”

Daniel hummed, though he sounded restrained. “Ms…Parker tells me you’re looking for someone to talk to as you start your hero career.”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t think I need it, but…Taylor seems to think it’s a good idea,” he said. “I trust her instincts. I also know how screwed up a job that makes you deal with criminals can make you so…” he shrugged again.

Daniel hummed again. “Then might we get to know each other,” he said and he pointed. Sparks formed, moving in a circular motion and a portal opened into his office “If you’ll follow me.”

Peter sobered. “I’m nervous all of a sudden,” he said.

“Before you go,” I said. “Could you help me out? I need some premium spiders and I was hoping to use the portal room to get them.”

Daniel moved his hands in a circle and opened two portals, both leading to thick forests. He moved his hands in a quick series forming an orange image made of shifting triangles. He pushed it forward and it hit me in the head. I felt the bugs and I could make the mental calculus which enabled me to pull them towards me.

I started pulling.

***

“Three players we’ll be going after,” said Peter. It was evening and we were back at the house, in my room with Aunt May watching television. “Gao, with dealings in Hell’s Kitchen, most likely expanding into other parts of Manhattan and Queens; our guy Freddie, who’s likely just starting up with all the talk of capital; and the unknown weapons dealer they think might help them against you.”

“There’s also the fact that they have one, maybe _two_ capes,” I said. “More than that, they have a lead on how they can give people powers—”

“Hypothetically,” said Peter. “We still don’t know how that really works, or if that’s how it works. Powers could just happen; the chatter on-line could be wrong.”

“It could be,” I said. “But let’s imagine the worst possible scenario, ride off of that.”

“Okay,” said Peter. “They’ve got two Inhumans and they can make more if they want. It’s maybe not simple or there’d be more Inhumans in the world, but let’s say they have more than two Inhumans in their operation for safety’s sake. That doesn’t help us, though, it just gets us paranoid.”

“It gets us to the point where we’re on alert,” I said. “Where every interaction we have against them has the possibility where we’ll have to go against a power.”

“Okay. Okay,” he said. “Do we do that to everyone else?”

“Yes for Gao,” I said. “Pony Tail seemed to think so, or at least that she had something under her belt. But we’ll get more info from the Devil on her, if he has any. What worries me more than anything is the weapon’s dealer. We don’t know what they can do, how they can outfit the people we’re up against, how large their operation is. But a part of me is thinking tinker.”

Peter hummed. “Me too,” he said. “Weapons aren’t too hard to find. But weapons that might be good against a swarm of bugs are their own thing. They’d have to be highly specialised, which means we’re either working with a genius or someone that’s stealing stuff from one of the big weapons manufacturers: Hammer Industries, some old stuff from Stark Industries or maybe A.I.M.”

“Can you check what they might have? What might be used against us? If it isn’t classified or whatever.”

“I should be able to find something on the cache of data S.H.I.E.L.D sent out. They were pretty much spying on every major industry, at least that’s what Ned says. Most of the stuff is encrypted, but there are a few things that aren’t and Ned has them. I’ll have to ask him for them.”

“He won’t be suspicious?”

Peter shook his head. “It’s not like I’ll do anything with it. Anyway, he got it just to see what the fuss was all about,” he said. “He said it was really boring, mostly encrypted, but the overviews of upcoming tech were cool.”

“I’ll leave it to you,” I said. I glanced at my watch, almost seven. “We’ll have to get going. You have your costume?”

“In my bag,” he said. “Which is strange. Why am I carrying a backpack to a party?”

“Just say you don’t know party protocol,” I said. Peter scowled. “Let’s get going. May’s ready.” I felt for my select spiders and got them close. Daniel had warned me against making a mistake and having the spiders invade New York, which meant I was going to keep them close to me until they died.

The ride was mostly quiet and I couldn’t tell if it was because Aunt May was still mad or if she was nervous because we were going to a party. It must have been horrible for her, especially when a part of her was afraid we might be doing drugs, however she’d reached that conclusion.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,” she said. “Be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, May,” said Peter. “We will. Love you.”

Intentional or not on Peter’s part, Aunt May melted a little.

The moment she was out of sight. Peter and I left, with me gathering bugs and getting them under my clothes. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was a hero, but it made sense to be paranoid just in case it was needed. Peter and I climbed, then started swinging towards Hell’s Kitchen.

We stopped en route, catching two guys who had stolen purses. Peter took the lead while I watched from above. He talked to the victim, had them stay until the cops arrived and stayed through the statement.

“I thought your deal was Queens,” said the officer as he got our first stop into the car.

“I was in the area,” Peter said with a shrug. “Saw this happening and I had to help.”

“Okay,” said the cop. He closed the door. “Hey, do you mind if I take a picture? My kids would love seeing me with someone like you.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” he said and he got into selfie position as the cop took out his phone. “I’ll be seeing you, Mr Officer,” he said when the job was done. He jumped up and started crawling up the building towards me.

“You should really do more of that,” said Peter. “It’s really fun.”

“Me and people don’t mix too well,” I said. “You do this better. You’ve got a knack for it.”

“But you also have a _mind_ for it. You can guess what people think, how they’ll react.”

“Still doesn’t mean I’m able to use it well on the interaction side,” I said. “Let’s move faster. I want us to go to Freddie’s hideout and see if we can’t find any information which might lead us in the right direction.”

He nodded and we moved faster. I had to stop Peter a couple of times just to go through some breathing exercises so I wouldn’t upchuck like the last time. But after what felt like forever, we reached Hell’s Kitchen.

“All on you, now,” he said.

I nodded and I started pulling in bugs, having them spread out and searching for anything suspicious. News on the Devil said he mostly appeared from rooftops, flying in and attacking. Either he really could fly, which I doubted because of how slow he was, or he had a mover ability which meant he could building-hop like Peter. Whatever the case, I focused mostly on the rooftops, seeing if there was anyone moving through them.

“Nothing,” I said and we moved, doing the same thing we’d been doing on our patrols. There wasn’t any certainty he’d be out today, which was why we’d given ourselves an hour before we got back to Queens, focused on something more concrete than hoping to run into another vigilante and getting information.

Three more times there was nothing.

“I’m getting the feeling we’re not going to find anything,” said Peter on our fourth iteration, as he waited for me to search out my range.

“We have a little more time,” I said. “How was your meeting with Daniel?”

He shrugged. “It was fine, it was mostly me just pestering him about magic. Apparently, anyone can learn it, but you have to go to some temple somewhere to be trained by the ‘Ancient One.’ Told him that wasn’t fair because they were essentially withholding knowledge which could revolutionise the world. He told me magic was too powerful a force to just be wielded willy-nilly and I told him the same could be true for scientific knowledge and yet _that_ was more accessible, and how with the accessibility came innovation. I bet my money on it magic was stagnating, not keeping up because the minds are so small, he made a comparison to nuclear weapons and how the technology wasn't getting any better because of the inherent danger.”

He did a back flip, spinning twice in the air before landing.

“It was a really good,” he said. “Not the stuff I thought it’d be.”

“He usually lets you direct the conversation,” I said.

“Okay,” he said. He did another flip, jumping higher this time and spinning four times through the air. “Do you think he’d be up for letting me spar with the hologram again? It was really exciting.”

I shrugged. “Don’t really know what he gets up to in the day. But, don’t be a burden, okay? I’m sure he’s busy with his whole magic thing.”

“Yeah. Sure,” he said.

I sighed. “One more time and then we’re leaving.” I searched and there was nothing. I sighed again. “This was disappointing. Let’s head back, hope Freddie gives us something.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Dynamic Duo**

**1.7**

“Okay,” said Peter. He was sitting with his phone out, the back light set low. “We need to give them a lot of evidence. Make the arrests less about us and more about the criminals and what they did. Looking at it, Daredevil only really caught Wilson Fisk when he tried to escape, most of the work was done by some lawyers. Nelson and Murdock.”

“Any connections to Daredevil?” I asked. “It makes sense if you’re going to be doing this as he does, to have lawyers on hand.”

Peter shrugged. “I’m not really sure. All I know is stuff I’m reading on this blog.” He sighed. “I really hate how boring this is. Nothing?”

“This is a stakeout,” I said. “They’re usually boring. At least you can have your phone out. If I wanted to be a hard-ass, I’d have you with binoculars, focusing on our targets.”

“That’d just be _torture,”_ he said, his attention going back to his phone.

I focused on my bugs, on their senses of the conversation half a block away. There were four people in the Boss’s apartment. They’d been there for the last half hour and nothing had come off it yet. There’d been no talk of operations, no talk of their targets, not even talk about dealing with Spider-Man and the Swarm. But then it was possible we’d missed our opportunity, that these guys thought they no longer had to worry about us and were staying quiet.

“I remember reading a book,” I said. Peter looked up. “The Good Reverend. It was…this experimental bio-punk thing, with something of a niche following.”

“Okay?”

“Well, the Good Reverend was trying to save the world against an oppressive government, wake people up and show how truly evil of their world was, what they’d settled into. But the government had weapons in the shape of kids. One of them was a social manipulator and he had this thing he called, ‘Shaking the Box.’”

Peter was interested now, his phone forgotten.

“People settle into too much of a pattern, they gain security in it, a sort of strength. The social manipulator believed in shaking the box, messing up the routine and staying ahead of the chaos. This is all paraphrased, of course.”

Peter was nodding. “So, here…”

“We shook the box when we got their people arrested, but then we disappeared, did nothing when they were on the alert. Now they’ve gotten comfortable again, settled, they don’t feel like moving and they’re just chatting and drinking.”

“You want to shake the box.”

I nodded. “We shake the box, show them we know where they live and they’ll scurry. They’ll look for safe places and they’ll start wondering what we know about the rest of their operation. They’ll move to check on things, in the doing give us more info about their operations.”

“Okay,” said Peter. “I don’t get why you’re telling me.”

“Because I have a one-track mind.”

“You know that was a joke, right?”

“But it’s true. I’m thinking on this and the only things I’ve considered is what will follow after this,” I said. “I’m focusing on things we’ll do, how we’ll act and so on, but further than that…” I shrugged.

“Like the entire thing with Aunt May? Us skipping school?”

“Yeah,” I said.

He sighed. “Okay. First thing we should be asking, will people get hurt?” he said. “Both now and _after_. Are there people in the apartments around them?”

“Yes,” I said. “But the three surrounding apartments, three below and three above are empty. I think it’s a privacy thing.”

“Okay,” he said. “Less people to think about, but…there’s still the chance they might take a hostage if things aren’t going their way.”

“Means we have to move faster. Make sure the damage is limited, increase the pressure but give them room to escape. Which, we’ll have to be on the watch out for, there’s only so many times we can let someone go before they start to notice.”

Peter nodded. “Big picture. We don’t have to worry about much,” he said. “We’ll be the ones attacking which means they won’t think this is a gang war. Yeah, I think we can shake the box a little.”

I nodded, starting to prepare. I already had silk lines on me, but now I made more, starting to disperse it to the bugs who’d be in the thick of it. I thought about sending out my Black Widows and Darwin Bark spiders, but it would be too much of a risk. I hadn’t had time to breed them yet and priority was them making our costume than they were on helping us win minor fights. I had to remember the long term, spend less time swept up in the short.

Three blocks worth of bugs closed in, filling up the walls and preparing for an attack. With the added mass of bugs, the conversation was much clearer, the information I was getting from my bugs richer.

“You should be there too,” I said. “So things aren’t suspicious.” Peter nodded and stood, looking over his web shooter and even firing a test web. “Remember the breakdown?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Four guys, all of them with two guns each and at least one of them with a set of knives. They’ve also got the tinker gun, so we’ll have to be on the lookout for more.”

“I’ll go in first,” I said, “figure what the tinker gun does and then relay it to you. But—”

“First thing I have to do is disarm them,” Peter said. “Yeah. I know. Now, let’s shake the box.”

I started carting in bugs, moving spiders towards them to start binding their weapons.

“Heads up, it’s here,” a voice said. At once all of them were on their feet, pulling out guns before my bugs could finish binding them in place. They all stood back to back, scanning. “Show yourself, Swarm. We know you’re here.”

I focused on Peter, feeling how he was moving. None of my bugs would be able to catch up. I moved bugs on the roof of the apartment building with the gang, hoping Peter would see it. I focused back in on the apartment, having flying bugs take to the air and cluster together. I used the smallest number of bugs that could speak.

“Somehow you knew I was here,” I said through my bugs. I’d tagged them and they hadn’t noticed, yet when a large enough cluster of bugs had gone into the room, they’d had. Either an ability which sensed large enough bio mass or a tinker device.

“Got some new toys,” said the speaker, a gangly a man. “Knew it was only a matter of time before we had you on our ass again. Where’s the Spider, anyway? Isn’t he your partner?”

“Indisposed,” I said. “That’s a cool looking gun. What does it do?”

It really wasn’t cool looking, instead it looked like what this world believed future tech would like: A bulbous thing with satellite-like protrusions. It was the picture of a ray gun.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, his tone smug.

“I guess I will.”

Roaches scurried out the walls, fliers and winged bugs jumping and taking into the air. I congealed them, making a hard form that swooped to the man with the ray gun. He took the bait and pressed the trigger. The sound of a triangle reverberated and with it a large swathe of my bugs turned to dust.

I heard something landing on the roof and I saw Peter.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“They have some tech or power, they could see me. I was talking to them and they fired their gun. It kills a _lot_ of bugs. I don’t know what it does to a person. Wait while disarm.”

Peter nodded. I pulled in more bugs and spread them out in a cloud. He fired and took out a section, quickly moving to the next and firing again. I had more bugs flood into the room, coming in from all sides. He took a step forward, pressed the trigger in a long press, spinning in a circle and taking out more bugs.

The twisting around should have hit his friends, but that they weren’t hurt probably meant it was safe for people. Peter would survive a hit from the ray gun, but there were regular guns to keep in mind.

The shooter chuckled as he kept shooting, firing a long shot which kept killing bugs. I moved them around, congealing the bugs into minor swarms all moving to attack. They weren’t reaching their goal, the cluster of men in the middle of the room, but they weren’t the crux of my plan.

Bugs filled the air, a large swarm that clouded visibility. More than that, I was directing their attention, bringing in swarms at eye-level all to make them miss the crawling bugs on the roof, forming a mound above their heads that dropped and surrounded them.

The screams started then and so did the gunshots, wild and frenzied. Bugs started succeeding in jamming the guns, while others were moving to get silk around the still holstered secondary weapons. But they weren’t fast enough and the guns were grabbed. I thought about starting to bite, but…I pushed the thought back, focusing on jamming the guns. It worked. There really was no need to bite except it would make the whole thing move along faster.

“There’s shooting,” said Peter, his voice breaking.

“Sorry,” I said. “Couldn’t get close enough to disarm them first. But they’ve largely stopped. The weapons are jammed but be careful.”

“Yeah,” said Peter. He ran and jumped off the roof, firing a web at the building’s side and changing course. He swung into the apartment building, crashing through a window. I heard him hiss as he landed in a roll. “Can’t see!”

I parted bugs and the man with the ray gun quickly got to his feet, reaching at his side, pulling out a knife and throwing it in the same moment. Peter bent, catching the knife and he screamed, stumbling back. He started to fire, but another knife was already flying. Peter stumbled back, falling hard, whimpering.

I congealed bugs into a humanoid form and had it stand over Peter. The process meant I pulled bugs away from the quartet, leaving them relatively clear. I had my clone scream something inarticulate before it rushed forward.

“Scatter!” said the shooter and they all ran in different direction. I moved to the closest two and swarmed them, stopping their run. Attention on the two fallen thinned out my swarm and I couldn’t get the last two. They bolted out of the room, down the hall towards the stairs.

“They’re gone,” said I said. Peter stood, webbing up the guys we caught. “You were grunting.”

“Glass sliced me on the way in,” he said.

“What you get for jumping through a window,” I said.

“Them?”

“Police are already on the way,” I said. “But web up their mouths and arms together. Better safe than sorry.” He nodded and did as I’d asked, with more care, he got out of the window and started crawling up the wall.

“Everyone in the building okay? Stray bullets are dangerous,” he asked when he was on the roof.

“Nothing I’m hearing,” I said. “Come back quickly. Our guys are in a car. We might lose them.”

“Be right there.”

***

“Second time,” said Freddie. “I’m beginning to think this is a pattern. You think the Swarm and Spider-Man might be after us.”

Thirteen in total when including their boss. Ox was there as well as someone who looked strongly _like_ Ox though with softer features; Pony Tail, they’d called him Montana, was also there; as well as the guy with the gun, Fancy Dan, which wasn’t working. They were at the back of a butchery in Astoria, sitting around a table and almost all of them quiet save Freddie and his lieutenants.

“At least the Vulture’s tech works,” said Fancy Dan. “His machine beeped when there were bugs, but it was all sort of useless when they were flooding the place.”

Freddie sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “A few thousand spent on these things and he subverts them with ease.”

“Not ease,” said Fancy Dan, a grin on him. “We hurt the Spider, we took out some of the Swarm’s bugs. I don’t know what that means with the whole powers crap, but…” He shrugged. “That’s good, right?”

“We don’t know,” Freddie said, still with that sigh in his voice. He took in a breath and let it out. “I think it might have been better if it was just the Spider. He’s strong and fast, he’s got those webs, but with the Oxen we’re likely to take them down. Bugs, though…”

“We could just use bugs spray,” said a man. Freddie gave him a long look. Peter chuckled besides me as I repeated everything that was happening in the room. “What?” the man said. “It makes sense.”

Montana gave the man a slap on the shoulder. “The Swarm took down a sound-cannon,” he said. “What makes you think he won’t be able to fight bug spray?”

“And if he can’t handle something, he’ll just brings in Spider-Man,” said Freddie. “With those webs, he could easily pull the bug spray out of our hands.”

“We could maybe build on that,” another man said. “Get the Vulture to make a set of aerosol bombs with bug spray.”

Freddie sighed. “We might have to,” he said. “But we’ve already spent a lot of money getting the gun and the scanners. We’ll have to act and act quickly. We have three locations on Gao. We’ll have to hit one, take their merchandise and move it as quickly as we can. We’ll use that money to deal with Spider-Man and the Swarm before Gao retaliates.”

“What about how the they found us?” said the leaner Ox. “Either someone let something slip or they’re following us somehow.”

The room descended into silence.

“The elephant in the room,” Freddie said. “It either means we have a mole or they have a way of finding us.”

“Hard to figure out which of those is the right option,” said Montana. “Sure, we’ve had the scanner since they first hit us, but Fancy Dan and the Big Man are the only ones who’ve had scanners. They’re the only ones who can know for sure that the Swarm hadn’t bugged us.”

“If he bugged us, then what does that mean for the operations we _do_ have,” said one of the men whose names I hadn’t committed to memory. “Our greenhouses.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” said Freddie, confident and brooking no argument.

“That’s worrying,” Peter muttered. “It means we haven’t shaken the box enough.”

I only hummed, listening to see if they would give us anything more, but no questions were asked and we couldn’t infer the answer. He was confident because…he already knew we’d intentionally let them go? It wasn’t possible, Peter’s webs took two hours to dissolve, not time enough that any corrupt police officers would have been able to get a message and relay it to Freddie. Or was he so assured in how he ran his operation? Was he so secure in the controls he’d put in place?

“A part of me wants to increase the pressure,” I said. “Show them that even here they aren’t safe, push them until they slip. But that’ll mean they get desperate.”

“Bigger chance they get reckless,” said Peter, “hurt people.” I gave him a nod. “Not something we want.”

We were both quiet, listening to the conversation that followed, it was mostly an after-action report, with Freddie wanting as much information about the fight as could be given. The more I heard, the more questions were asked, I had the feeling he was geared toward strategic thinking. It didn’t do us any good drawing this out.

“How about we shake the box another way,” Peter said. I didn’t need to, but I looked in his direction. “I’ve been thinking about lawyers, representation in case things go bad. With vigilantes, Jessica Jones is the only person we can really use as a baseline, things we might be able to achieve and things we can’t.”

“Point,” I said.

“Mental wiki-walk,” said Peter. “Lawyers onto Jessica Jones onto Private Investigators. They gather evidence and it’s usually admissible, right? So, I was thinking we follow these guys, take pictures of them in incriminating positions and we use _that_ to get them to actually stay behind bars.”

“We still have the problems that we do now,” I said. “We don’t know their operations. We don’t know where we’ll be looking for them. Largely it’ll just be us waiting around, not knowing if we’re moving forward or not.”

Peter shrugged. “So? This isn’t the only thing we’re doing, right? We’re still training, still patrolling and getting public perception on our side, still making costumes and thinking about the big picture. I don’t know if you know this, baby sister, but that’s _a lot._ We can afford to take it slow here, make sure we do everything carefully.”

I took a breath and then slowly let it out. “I’m too focused on getting all of it done,” I said.

“It’s your one… _goal orientated_ nature showing itself again,” he said.

I smiled. “Good save,” I said and I sighed again. “I’ll need something to occupy me.” Peter snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “Part of my power means I can stretch myself in multiple directions. It’s why…I get so bored sometimes, when teachers tell me I have to focus on them when there’s three blocks worth of information to just take in.”

“Does using your body help?” he asked. “Like, does it occupy you to be using your body more than your power?”

“Some,” I said. “I can sort of set myself on autopilot. Though I don’t like doing that. I have to pay more attention if I’m doing things I’m not used to.”

“Okay,” said Peter and he smiled a bright grin. “Fighting?”

“Some things hold my attention better than others,” I said. “Karate no longer takes up the same space it did at first. I think it would be marginal. You’re thinking I should increase my repertoire?”

“I was more thinking parkour than anything,” he said. “Help you with the mobility angle. Sure, there’s some places you won’t be able to scale, but…”

“Yeah.”

“Also, a part of me thinks you’d look good in a leotard.” I gave him my most terrified expression. “I know you _can’t_ ignore this because it’s actually a good idea, so…gymnastics, baby sis.”

“I—”

“Told you I’d pay you back for the yoga,” he muttered, a large grin.


	8. Chapter 8

**Dynamic Duo**

**Interlude**

_“What’s going on?”_

_Peter took a breath and it hitched. For the last hour he’d been sitting on his own,_ contemplating _. Aunt May had always told him that crying was healthy._ Then _it had been easier, everything had seemed worse, all colour having gone from the world. He’d understood for the first time what being close to a Dementor would feel like._

_But did the same apply here?_

_No one had died. In fact, this seemed like a normal part of school. But…it still hurt, how people had looked at him, how they crowded around him and were just laughing. No one doing anything because…_

_He tried and failed to take a breath, there was the hitching again. He’d been close to making the decision to cry, get the release, and Taylor had stepped in at the worst time, when it was all so close to the surface._

_“I—” one word and his voice broke, eyes started to burn before tears started running. He quickly wiped them away._

_Taylor didn’t cry. She hadn’t cried all through Uncle Ben. She’d just been there, not doing anything because emotion wasn’t her, consoling wasn’t her._

_“Peter…” she started. She would stop and gape. Peter turned and saw this was true, Taylor was standing there,_ looking _at him. “I don’t know what to do.”_

_“I’d like a hug,” he said._

_“I can do that,” Taylor said and she let out a breath, coming forward and getting into bed with him, giving him a one-armed hug. She was quiet, brushing his hair as he tried to hold it in, tried to push his mind away and failing. “You’re being bullied, aren’t you?”_

_Peter didn’t answer, thinking about telling her. Taylor didn’t say anything, only_ _brushing his hair. She wouldn’t say anything, it wasn’t her. There would be the needed silence, but she wouldn’t let it go._

 _“I…I’m being_ teased,” _he said. “It’s…not physical, which makes me think it’s_ not _bullying.”_

 _“You’re crying,” said Taylor. “Because of_ it, _I think that’s enough for it to be bullying.”_

_Peter sighed. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, turning to face Taylor, hoping she might give him something._

_“Yeah,” she said, her expression hadn’t changed, there was nothing in her voice, but there was something in her eyes. “I get it.”_

***

Bugs were everywhere. He had his goggles on and wore a silk mask so bugs couldn’t get into his mouth, nose, eyes or ears, but they were still _annoying._ They were so clustered together it was impossible to see beyond them.

“Hey,” said Taylor and Peter reacted, twisting around and firing a web. It was the wrong move because he tilted, everything going head over heels as Taylor started throwing him to the ground. He curled and landed, striking but Taylor was already gone.

“You’re too slow,” she said and Peter couldn’t help the impulse to twist around. Even so he was alert enough to be on his guard. He felt it as she started moving, hairs standing on end. His arm came up and he prepared to catch her incoming attack but she noticed, going lower and catching him at the legs.

He tipped over, curled and landed feeling his hairs standing on end again.

It was too late, Taylor must have jumped because Peter felt both her feet landing. He’d been getting up and his centre of gravity was off, he stumbled back and was only able to remain on his feet because of his preternatural balance. He fired a quick salvo where Taylor had been, she would have fallen and worked to get up, hopefully she hadn’t moved far enough for him to miss.

“Have I caught you yet?” he asked.

“No,” Taylor returned, sounding all around him.

 _Yeah,_ he thought. _I have._

He fired again, a wider spray hoping to catch her. Hair he didn’t even know he had on his face stood on end. he turned and though he couldn’t see anything, ducked low. He was hit but a thick wall of bugs. He didn’t topple over, but he was _covered_ in them.

In _bugs._

He panicked, trying to bat them off him only for a _knee_ to slam into his chest. He tried to grab and felt as Taylor rolled away, getting to her feet and running. Peter jumped to his feet.

“You know,” he said. He was not breathing hard, but he _hurt._ Momentum, the relatively lower surface area and the hardness of the bone behind a knee strike. Worse yet, he hadn’t fallen correctly, hitting the ground instead of rolling with the impact. “I feel like you’re taking out your aggression on me because of the leotard. This isn’t supposed to be physical.”

“I can talk and fight at the same time,” said Taylor. Peter didn’t take the bait, but it wasn’t bait. She struck him behind the knees and he fell forward, twisting and grabbing at her. Bugs were immediately on him, getting under his gloves and crawling on his _skin._

He screamed.

A laugh reverberated around him as Taylor scurried back, out of his hold. The bugs fell away and all the flying bugs around them parted. Taylor had her hands on her knees, bugs started to crawl off her while spiders descended, falling on her hair. Peter shivered and then noticed Taylor was still laughing. His cheeks started burning.

“Okay, okay,” he said. But Taylor didn’t stop. “You know, I was holding back, right? I couldn’t punch too hard or I’d break you.”

“It’s more likely you’re going to get in a scuffle with people that break than not,” Taylor said. She stood, wiping away tears. “That can’t be an excuse.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” he said. “You were holding back when we were fighting before.”

“I still am,” she said. She walked away, going to a box at the end of the room. She wasn’t focusing on it, but bugs were still moving, working together they pulled at the threads of webs he’d shot out. Two hours before they dissolved and enough time to be used in their next sparring match. Peter made a mental note to watch out for trip lines both low and high. “Water?”

“Yeah.” She picked up the lid of the box and thread over her shoulder, throwing hard enough it sailed to him. All without looking. Peter caught it without trouble, but the gears worked and the answer formed. “You still have bugs on me, don’t you?”

Taylor shrugged, sitting on the box. “Lice,” she said. Peter shivered, his hands going to his head, he felt his stomach starting to twist.

“That is _so_ disgusting,” he said. “Please don’t.”

“But you don’t even feel them,” said Taylor. “You’re just creeped out by the idea of them.”

“Yeah, and? Because to me it sounds like a perfectly rational creepiness. What if…what if you fall asleep and they breed and they _infest.”_

Taylor directed a look his way. “You trust me with Black Widows but this is so hard?” she said. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he only shrugged. “Anyway, the lice are something I’m starting to use to see if they can escape their scanners. It’s not something I’ve always been using.”

“Good then, but it really doesn’t help me now, does it?” he said. “Can you get them off me?”

Taylor shrugged and flies started descending, moving to his head, elbows and knees, staying there for a bit before taking off.

“All done,” she said.

“I don’t trust that you’re telling the truth,” he said. “That could all have been for show.”

“It mostly was,” said Taylor, a grin on her. “I had them jump off when you asked.”

Peter scowled. “I can’t trust whether that’s true or not.”

“Then you have to choices, baby bro—” It was instinctive at this point that he just scowled, “—either you force yourself to believe me, or get used to bugs creeping and crawling, scurrying and skittering all over you.”

Peter shivered, more so when he felt a bug _in_ his suit, crawling up his arm. He held back the scream, but there was still the discomfort. Taylor hadn’t missed it, a large grin plastered on her.

“This is for the leotard,” he said.

“This is for the leotard,” she admitted. “But don’t worry. I _really_ don’t have bugs on you. Focus less on that and let’s do an after-action report. What did we learn?”

“I need to work on my senses,” he said. “I sort of have this…thing where I can feel when an attack is coming, even the direction, but…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t read it well and I didn’t integrate it into how I fought.”

Taylor nodded. “That’s the one power I think you should be working on the most,” she said and she changed. The mirth was gone and there was a deadly focus. “It’s hard to conceptualise especially with how hero movies trend, but strength isn’t all that great a power. I mean, it’s still good, but you’re still limited. Run hard enough and you’ll dent the ground, hampering your own mobility, grab something fast enough and you’re more likely to break it than use it to hurt your opponent.”

“So my strength shouldn’t be the focus,” said Peter and there was a sigh in his voice. “You always say that and I use my strength with my webs. I hamper mobility, act on all angles, but that’s sort of hard with you because I’m trying not to hurt you.”

Taylor let out a sigh. “Maybe I’m repeating this too much, but the fundamentals—”

“I shouldn’t forget them, yeah,” he said. “Think on the fly, try and learn about the opponent, figure them out, how they use their abilities and counter that instead of having a staple sense of how to fight.”

“Then why weren’t you using it against me?” she said. There wasn’t a frown in her voice nor her expression, but Peter could feel it. He knew what was coming and shifted.

“Because it wouldn’t be fair.”

Taylor let out a breath and there was a slight bit of disappointment. She looked at him and Peter saw something older in her eyes, he saw as a myriad of thoughts passed by and something of an idea form. He didn’t like it, because he hadn’t liked the last time.

“No fights are fair,” she said. Her eyes looked the same. “It’s very important you understand that. So let’s go again.”

Peter swallowed. Yeah, this was going to be bad.

***

_“Look,” said Flash, his nose was red with plaster on it. “I’m…I’m sorry, okay?” He sniffled. “I get it, that I’ve been an ass and…even if I have my own issues, I shouldn’t take them out on you and I never will. I’m sorry for what I’ve done, even if the words aren’t enough.”_

_“Um…” Peter shifted. “I don’t understand. What’s going on? What happened to your face.”_

_An adulterated fear passed over Flash. He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just…fell. I’ve—”_

_“Was it Taylor?” he asked, because it was just too convenient. Flash stumbled but kept walking, not looking back. But Peter could tell. He let it gestate._

_***_

Taylor was breathing hard but Peter _hurt._ Too many times he’d been caught by an excess of webs, his course altered hard enough that he couldn’t reorient and he’d _fallen._ Both of them were laying on the ground, with Peter holding his side.

“You jump kicked me,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said between a breath. “You’re a brute and that instinctively invites challenges of strength. You have to be prepared for that.”

Peter groaned. “So that’s what that was,” he said. He closed his eyes, taking breaths to calm down. Adrenaline was still pumping through his system and with it, there came the flood of sensory perception: The air hit his skin weird, his heart was _noise_ as blood flooded his system, his vision got finer and blurred for no good reason, reacting oddly to light. But breathing helped, pushing everything else back while focusing on the now, being here.

“What _what_ was?” said Taylor.

“The look in your eyes,” he said. “The last time I saw it was before Flash came to school with a broken nose. It was me talking about fairness wasn’t it?”

Taylor let out a long breath. Peter opened his eyes and took a glance at her. She was slightly unreadable. “Concepts of fairness are…misplaced in what we’re trying to do. I feel like if you hold onto them, you might hold back at the worst of times.”

“So you were trying to carve that away?”

Taylor shrugged. Peter took a breath and with his senses still dialled up, he felt as Taylor shifted, looking at him.

“You don’t like it?” she said.

“It feels like you’re…turning me into the sort of person _you_ want me to be,” he said and he sighed. “I mean, I get it. You’re preparing me for _this,_ what I wanted, but…I still don’t like it, you know? I don’t feel comfortable.”

“I get that,” she said. “Sorry.”

“It’s…okay as long as you stop doing it,” he said. “Or at least run it by me first.”

“I will,” she said. “Again, sorry.”

Peter gave her a smile. “I like this place,” he said. “Even if we’re technically breaking and entering.”

“No one’s using it,” Taylor said, “and we aren’t messing anything up. This is a very good example of a victimless crime. More likely that the owner might get offers to buy this place if people knew it was the training grounds of Spider Man, the Swarm and…me.”

“Still not sold on a name?”

Taylor shook her head. “Nothing is really resonating,” she said. “I’m leaning towards Lacewing, but that makes people think flight.”

“I don’t even know what a lacewing is,” he said. “You could make it work.”

“But the wing gives it away,” I said. “Wing and flight go together.”

“Some ants have wings and they don’t fly.”

“But some do fly and most things with wings fly,” I said. “It’s a symbolic thing.”

“We could maybe commission something that could make you fly,” said Peter, he sat up. Taylor turned and looked his way, she raised a brow. “I’ve been reading, thinking about ways to make stronger silk for both of us. Mine still needs a lot of tinkering, which is sort of hard now with everything, but yours could be easier.”

Peter took a glance and grinned, getting more excited because Taylor seemed interested.

“Well, it’s research scientists have been doing with spiders, exposing them with water with carbon-nanotube or graphene and seeing their webs after the effect. In some cases, the silk from the surviving spiders is stronger than it usually is. The problem though, is the research is hard, it’s not like these guys have a way of _making_ the spiders produce silk.”

Taylor let out a sigh. “Oh good,” she said. “You’re thinking we just look into companies researching this and working with them.”

“Yeah. What did you think?”

“That you wanted us to find carbon nanotubes or whatever the other one was,” she said. “I would have told you I don’t even know what that is. Nano-thorns I know, but nanotubes?” She shook her head.

Peter frowned. “Nano-thorn?”

“Like…” She frowned. “Fuck, I can’t remember the explanation. Um…nano….things that are blades? And they slide between atoms to cut?”

“Holy fuck, you’re talking about severing molecular bonds,” he said. “How would that even work? Where did you even hear about something like that? That’s next gen tech for sure.”

“From a past life,” she said and she snorted. She turned and noticed Peter was scowling. “Maybe a sci-fi book. Really not sure, it wasn’t explained very well, which means it must have been sci-fi.”

Peter deflated. “It would have been awesome if it was real,” he said. “Anyway, it’s a good idea, right? The Swarm visits and is willing to work, keeping some of the surviving spiders. We get upgraded silk and we get money on the side, it’ll likely be better than us searching the city for a crime.”

Taylor hummed. “We still have the problem of _how,”_ she said. “Pretty hard to make a contract when you’re a Swarm of bugs.”

“Which is where my brilliance kicks in,” Peter said.

Taylor snorted. “Careful you don’t toot your own horn too much,” she said. “It could break.”

“Ew, Taylor, _no.”_

“I think that your mind went there says more about you than it does about me,” she said. “But let’s move on before this gets awkward.”

“Okay,” he said. “My brilliance. Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz. They’re the firm representing Jessica Jones with everything connected with the Kilgrave guy. She works with people with powers, she might be able to set this deal for us.”

“We’ll have to come up with a fully formed presentation,” Taylor said. “High class place like that might trend towards looking at profit, but they’ll do a risk and reward analysis and we have to show that it’s better to work with us even with the present risk.”

“How do you think we should do it?” Peter said, keeping his smile down. Taylor started speaking and it was almost natural, breaking down the type of people involved and how they were likely to think, what they could do if they wanted this to work out.

 _This_ was Taylor in her element, reading people and breaking them down. Once upon a time Peter had thought that she would make a good politician, if she wanted to, she could manipulate people pretty well. And then, the incidents had started:

***

_“Holy crap,” said Ned. Peter had been focusing on finishing off his homework. He could have done it at home but putting it off didn’t make sense when he could just do it now. Ned hadn’t felt the same and he’d been watching videos on YouTube. “Peter, your sister’s close to being viral.”_

_“What?” he said, looking up. Ned pressed his phone and the image filled the whole screen. He started the video over:_

A hallway with kids milling through it, chatting and laughing. There were a few cliques standing, looking towards a row of lockers and laughing as they talked amongst themselves. There was a banging.

“Please,” said a voice from the lockers. “Can someone—” The voice broke and there was banging again, laughter from one gaggle and then a girl stepped through a throng. Her expression was cold as she looked around, taking everyone in and walking to the locker.

“Combination,” Taylor said.

_Peter shivered._

The kid on the other end recited, speaking low so only Taylor could hear. She pulled the lock and opened it. Inside there was a kid, a little taller than Taylor, thin and his face red of embarrassment. It got even worse as a cluster started laughing, the sound spreading through the hallway.

The camera momentarily moved away from Taylor and the boy, only returning as Taylor walked with purpose towards a group of four boys, all of them taller, all of them bigger and wrapped up in their laughing. One of them noticed, tapped his friends and they all looked at Taylor, breaking into louder laughter.

Taylor waited, standing in front of them, looking up with her cold expression.

The laughter died down.

“You got a problem?” one of them said, most likely the leader.

“In a moment I’m going to have all of you on the ground, squealing like the cowards you are,” she said, not shouting but speaking loud enough for people to hear. The leader was about to laugh but he didn’t the opportunity, Taylor had stepped forward and kicked him in the groin. He bent forward, catching himself but Taylor punched him in the jaw, sending him stumbling back.

The boy fell, tried to climb to his feet and he couldn’t.

The other three were momentarily distracted looking at their friend and that was time enough for Taylor to pull off her backpack and throw in one motion. She caught one boy in the head, sending him stumbling away. She moved forward a step, punching one in the side and ducking low as the last of the three tried to grab her. Another hit, open palmed and it caught one boy in the nose. He stumbled back and hit a row of lockers, his hands going to his bleeding nose. He slid to the ground, holding his head up.

Taylor stepped back, looking at the two still standing.

“You’re thinking about running, but that would be social suicide,” she said, her voice still cold. “These two can cop out, say I caught them unaware and that’s why they’re on the ground right now. But the same won’t fly for you. You run and it’s going to stick. You try and fight me and I’ll beat you down, beat you down _hard.”_

She stood, staring down the two, they didn’t move.

“You’re pieces of shit,” she said. She looked around. _“All_ of you.”

A crowd had gathered and there was silence, it was broken as a woman stepped through.

“What’s going on here?” she said.

“These four ingrates put a kid in a locker,” Taylor said. “I showed them how powerless they are.” She shrugged. “Your move,” she said to the teacher. She stepped forward and the two boys shuffled away. Taylor only grabbed her bag.

“Mr Ramirez’s office,” she said. “You two to the nurse.”

_He hadn’t been able to get proof and he’d been a little too scared about asking Taylor, but he knew it was true, this was the thing that had happened to Flash Thompson._

_“I think I’m in love with your sister,” said Ned._

***

“She’s too direct,” said Peter. “When she’s got a goal, she goes all-in. But it’s worse because she’s _creative,_ she can think about multiple angles to attack from and she works at it until she succeeds.”

“You’re afraid she’ll do the same thing with you? With the promises she made?” said Dr Drumm.

“Yes?” said Peter and he sighed. “This feels dirty, talking about my sister like this.”

“You’re trying to clarify your thoughts,” the man said. “There’s nothing wrong about that. You have concerns and voicing them helps, allows you to gain perspective.”

Peter sighed. “Does she talk about me?” he asked. “When she’s doing this?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” said Drumm.

Peter smiled. “Yeah. I don’t know. Guess I would have felt better if I knew she did,” he said. He gave Drumm a look, hoping the man would let something slip but he didn’t, only looking at him.

“We were sparring,” Peter continued. “And…a part of me thought I could beat her. I’m faster, stronger and I have my webs. Both of us are holding back, I’ve seen how she uses her bugs, getting them in people’s eyes and mouth,” he shivered at the thought, “and she doesn’t do that with me. But she still won more than I like. She controlled the ground, she distracted me, used webs I’d fired at her to bind me, using her own webs. She tracked me, figured out where I usually jumped and how I dodge and put barriers in my way.”

“You’re going back to her being creative,” said Dr Drumm.

Peter shrugged. “That’s what my mind keeps jumping back to. If she can be that creative when her blood’s pumping, then how much better is she at it when she can _think.”_ Peter sighed. “I’m paranoid, aren’t I?”

“Do you feel you have reason to be?”

“I don’t know,” said Peter. “I just…she has this term when she’d describing the Big Man, Freddie, the guy we’re trailing. Mastermind, she says they’re the people who work in the shadows until they’ve got all their ducks in a row and they _act._ She told me the best thing to be when you’re dealing with them is to be paranoid, question the information you get, what they do, look for traps, that sort of thing. It’s put this idea in my head that Taylor’s a mastermind.”

“At least,” said Dr Drumm, “if she is a mastermind, she’s one working to enforce the law. She’s doing good.”

“From what I can see yes, but…what if she’s doing stuff in the shadows?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Terrific Trio**

**2.1**

“Found something.”

“Yes!” said Peter. “What is it?”

“A lab,” I said, focusing on the impulses from my bugs. I didn’t have a lot, too many bugs would be too conspicuous. The place was too clean and too cold, making it harder for people to believe that bugs would find their way here, especially if people already knew about me and my powers.

I now had to be measured in my response, pulling in bugs so small that they would be missed and coloured to blend in. Not being able to sense the colouration of my bug had been a problem, but I made what I thought were good bets. I pulled in bugs that trended to towards white—I didn’t naturally know the colour of my bugs but I knew the general shape of them, which meant I’d pulled in one _very_ small bug, got a feel of it and then worked with bugs that felt the same as my sample. These bugs I’d spaced out, giving me an image of the facility, while I pulled in fleas and had them settle on the people wearing clothes.

“There are ten people with guns,” I said. “I’m not very good with them so…rifles? Machine guns?”

“They’re packing,” said Peter.

I nodded. “There are twenty-eight people that are working,” I continued. “All of them naked save underwear and these plastic parkas. I think they might be making coke or something, I’ve had a few bugs on it and its powdery.”

They were in a warehouse two storeys tall, with the second floor made up of a mezzanine; an office at the back of the mezzanine, with metal walkways spreading out from the office, fixed to the wall and looking over the first floor. There were fourteen tables on the ground, all ordered so the two-man teams wouldn’t get in each other’s way. No speaking, only the rustling of the parkas as people worked.

“Gao,” said Peter. “You said before that her thing was selling drugs.”

“Yeah,” I said, distracted. I was searching through more of the facility. I had bugs on the mezzanine, which was slightly less clean that the ground floor. Bugs would have an easier time moving there, feeling out the people within.

Three men, two carrying smaller, heavier guns, dangling at their sides. One didn’t have any weapons. He was sat in a chair, looking at a set of screens I couldn’t see with my bugs. I clustered bugs under their desks and through them I could hear as the man conversed.

“Chinese,” I said.

“Actually,” said Peter. “Chinese is not a language, but a group of them. Most people in China speak standard Mandarin.”

“Don’t suppose that means you can understand it, can you?” I said. Peter shook his head. “Well, that wasn’t useful at _all.”_

Peter shrugged. “Was trying to get to you,” he admitted. “I’m gonna call the cops while you take care of the guns.”

I gave him a nod and focused on moving bugs. Stealth was key here, but I also had to move fast. We’d spent the last half of the week trailing him, trying and failing to get a sense of his operations. But the only thing we knew was that he had a few police in his pocket. If that was true for him, then it could be true for these guys too, and that would mean they’d hear about the police before they even got close. I had to work on two avenues: Make sure that if they chose to fight, they wouldn’t have their weapons; and, if they were going to run, things were harder for them.

Flying bugs carrying lines of silk were already en route to the building, while bugs I was sure wouldn’t be seen were moving to weapon, finding whatever spaces they could and filling them up. The bugs I was using were small, but they were a lot and I was sure if I used enough of them, the guns would jam.

“Yes,” I heard Peter saying. “Can you give me a moment to write it down?” He mouthed a word. I unlocked my phone and gave it to him. “Yeah. Uh-huh. Seven-three-four. Mhmm. Thank you very much. I don’t want to sound pushy, but, this might be a rush in sort of thing. Yeah…Bye.”

Peter gave me the thumbs up, handing me my phone.

“Get close,” I said. “Wait for the police and help them if it’s needed. I’ll have the Swarm there to feed you information.”

“See you soon,” Peter said, his voice filled to the brim with excitement. He jumped off, shooting out a web and sharply changing direction. I had bugs on him, hidden in the pockets of his hoodie, and I tracked him through them as he disappeared between buildings. I moved bugs into a humanoid shape while I kept working.

I’d clogged down a set of guns, but I couldn’t be sure if they’d work or not. I really needed to learn more about guns, how to take them down, where their weak points were, but that was for future reading. Right now, it was better to overestimate the bugs needed than underestimate.

Bugs started jumping into their supply, the same strategy I’d used when I’d been dealing with the dealer. Hopefully people would lose faith in this drug if they saw bugs in it. I couldn’t help wondering if it would work, though, these were addicts and maybe the occasional bug didn’t matter to them so long as they got their high. It was a depressing thought, stirring up my own distaste of drugs.

“Any change?” Peter said, landing on the roof next to my cluster of bugs. The windows were boarded up and cameras hidden at the building’s perimeter didn’t look our way. Peter was relatively safe, standing a building over from our target.

‘Shhh,’ I wrote. ‘They might have a thinker.’

Peter nodded, bending low. I started describing what was going on through written form. They were mostly talking, which we still didn’t understand, they were still working and one person had pulled out their phone, making a call.

“Suspicious, maybe,” Peter whispered and I wasn’t sure it would help against a thinker. These guys, from what I could tell, didn’t seem to have a thinker on their roster, but then I didn’t know much. They were conversing in their native tongue and I was missing a lot. I didn’t like it at all.

‘Maybe,’ I wrote.

The guns were clogged to the best of my ability and now I had bugs sifting through the guards, trying to see if they had any secondary weapons. All of them did: the pistols I’d already clogged, but the knives were another matter. I couldn’t just have spider traipse out in the open, not if it would have these people moving before things were settled.

But that could have been a moot point.

‘Cars incoming,’ I wrote. The streets around these parts were low in traffic, which meant I’d been able to lay out spiderwebs across the streets, using them to get a feel for disturbances and then having gnats fly onto the offending targets to keep track of them. Cars were different from people, their vibrations felt by the webs even before they tore through them.

‘Counting five distinct vibrations,’ I wrote. ‘But I’m not really good at this so I could be missing something.’

“Maybe police cars,” Peter whispered and then he shook his head. “No sirens. Just wishful thinking. You’re thinking thinker power or mole?”

“Don’t know,” I said, it was faster to speak and Peter was talking now, which meant if they _did_ have a thinker, he knew about us. But that didn’t mean they knew about what we were planning. It was a shot in the dark, but still, speaking out our way forward wasn’t the best idea.

‘We’ll wait to see how things play out,’ I wrote. ‘If they start moving their merchandise, we’ll have to act. I’ll start drawing bugs close, but they won’t be in the building. Can’t take the chance they’re buying from the Vulture too.’

Peter nodded, giving me the thumbs up. We waited, Peter looking towards the building while I tried to keep track of everything. The man on the mezzanine pressed a button and said something, that rang through the lower floor. Everyone stopped, their movements changing as they started packing up.

‘Packing up,’ I wrote.

“Should I move in?” said Peter.

‘Yes,’ I wrote. ‘I’ll keep track of you, but I’ll be dealing with the people in cars. Be careful.’

Peter gave me a nod and jumped off.

I started collecting bugs, directing them in the path of the cars. There were seven vehicles in total, two of which were moving trucks. I quickly got bugs in them and counted the people inside: The moving trucks had three people in the front, seven others in the back, while the cars had five people including the drivers. All of them had the same heavy guns the people on the mezzanine had.

I tracked the bugs on Peter, he was already on the building, in a space where the external cameras wouldn’t be able to see him. The men on the mezzanine had moved, going a floor lower and talking to the guards. They all moved as a group, going to an exit that would take them towards Peter.

“I think they know you’re here,” I said through gathered bugs. He didn’t jump.

“They shouldn’t have been able to see me,” he muttered. “Not when you lead me through the blind spots.”

Had I? I didn’t remember making a conscious decision to do so, even if it was the smart play. I felt the discomfort starting to rise up, but I pushed it back. If I got lost in the past, Peter might get hurt and I didn’t want that to happen.

Focus on _this,_ on what I was trying to do.

“Thinker maybe,” I said. “Be on the alert. They’ve reached the doors.”

They had, but my bugs had already finished binding the doors closed with silk. They pulled, stretching the silk before stopping. I heard them speak faster, more passion in the words.

The first cloud of my bugs hit the cars, clouding over all of them and starting to find crevices to get into it. Words were said, higher pitched and impassioned. The first bugs started to crawl over them and they stayed composed, as a group moving faster while they shared words in Mandarin. That composure was quickly lost as bugs started crawling into nose and ears and eyes; cars jerked and stopped as the drivers devoted their attention to the growing mass of bugs.

Overall it was good, but I counted three people who were calm in the chaos, three people that should have been covered in bugs and yet weren’t. I focused on them, trying to push bugs their way, but they slipped, moving over something that wasn’t there. Either three Inhumans who had the same ability or there was a trump and they’d been given the ability to counter my bugs.

The three were in different cars. At different paces, they got out of the passenger’s seats, two moving to the trucks while one chose a car and they started to move. I tried to bind them with lines of silk, but it didn’t take. As soon as they moved, the lines of silk _slipped,_ no friction to keep them in place. I layered bugs over windscreens, but it didn’t seem to impede them one bit. A thinker power above and beyond their shields?

I focused on Peter. He’d kicked through a small window at the top of the warehouse. He was inside, crawling on the walls being followed by a cluster of flying bugs as he moved. I tracked the people on the floor, they’d moved, checking other exits and found that all were closed. They were still speaking, still impassioned, which was a stark contrast to the workers who were still packing up, eerily silent.

Their shared words stopped as they moved, guns coming out and pointing up in Peter’s direction.

“In—” I started, but Peter had already moved, jumping back as the guns stuttered, firing in a series of cracks where he’d been and following him as he swung through the air. My heart almost stopped, my mouth going dry. That wasn’t supposed to happen, I’d clogged the guns, they should have jammed.

_Focus, Taylor. This isn’t the time to panic._

I pushed away the panic, keeping track of everything. Peter was fine, he’d moved out of the way and he was moving haphazardly enough that they couldn’t hit him; and my plan had worked, it just hadn’t kicked in immediately. More of the weapons were jamming, their stuttering coming to a stop.

Peter descended, moving at an angle and firing a line. He caught one man’s gun and _pulled,_ sending the block of metal slapping in another. He clipped the web, fired to keep his swing and fired a quick salvo of webs at the men. One of them shouted and they scattered. Peter missed as they hid under desks or found other cover.

He landed on a wall, scanning the ground.

“This is creepy,” I heard Peter say when my cluster of bugs caught up to him. “The people.”

I focused on them, feeling their forms against my mind. They were still working, not having panicked even when there’d been gun fire. It seemed like they were ignoring even some of the men hiding under their tables.

“Master power?” I said.

“I don’t know,” Peter returned. “But it’s scary to think about.” He took a breath. “All of them are blind and it looks _ugly._ Like it was a rush job.”

“Focus, Spider-Man,” I said. “Push it back until this is all over. We have a job to do and we have capes incoming.”

Peter nodded and jumped, shooting webs out and swinging lower. Two of them men stepped out from their hiding places, hands on knives and they threw. Peter contorted, moving past the projectiles and landing on the ground with a skid. He fired off two webs, both catching at table. He pulled, jumping in the same moment. Bereft of cover, the two men scrambled, but Peter caught one with a web to the foot before being forced to dodge by a set of knives coming at him from behind. 

I heard sirens in the distance, slowly getting louder.

If I could hear them, the people with the cars would hear them too and they’d be scrambling, wanting to leave. More bugs had arrived, some of them carrying some of the excess lines of webs Peter had made for me, with my attention their way, they started binding the men, catching those who’d tried to scramble while my attention was elsewhere. Some tried to fight, but it was very hard to fight a mass of bugs.

The men in the trucks were a quarter of a block from the building, which meant we had at best seconds before they arrived. I focused on Peter, feeling out the ground. He’d taken down four men, but the scenery had changed: The workers were now aimlessly milling while the men hid in the crowd, throwing knives at Peter when they thought there was an opening.

I didn’t have many bugs in the direction and I sent them into the air, forming arrows that pointed down towards Peter’s targets. My brother quickly worked, shooting two lines and catching two men. He jumped, flailing his webs and having them form loops which wound around the men. I heard laughing from Peter as he moved the webs to one hand, fired with the free hand and swung, both men in tow. He landed on the mezzanine walkway, sticking the two men in place.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I heard him say. A knife flew in his direction, moving fast. He dodged without trouble, jumping onto the ceiling, then running before he jumped and started swinging around.

“Careful,” I said. “One of them might be Inhuman. That knife managed to sink into the wall.”

“Okay,” said Peter, still with an edge of excitement in his voice. “You have _no_ idea how long I’ve been practising that.”

“It looked really good,” I told him. “Three men incoming with trucks. I can’t get my bugs on them.” As I spoke something happened, the bugs on the man who hadn’t had weapons slipped away, a similar effect as the men who were driving cars. “The guy that threw the knife is a definite Inhuman. I can’t get bugs on him, like the guys driving the trucks. The effect might extend to your webs too.”

Peter scurried across a wall, getting closer to the ground, watching the group on the floor. They moved as a group, still three guards with guns in their midst, barking out orders. As a group, the workers started running towards the exit, not stopping but crashing into it, trying force their way through. It didn’t work.

“Assume master effect,” I said. “Master protocol.”

Peter nodded and jumped, getting low enough that he was able to fire a web. He didn’t catch a guard, instead taking a worker and pulling them from the thrum, in the process hitting the surrounding people. An order was barked and the people stilled so they wouldn’t step on the fallen guard. Peter let go of his quarry, sending them sliding on the floor. He swung around, going in for another grab.

A knife flew and Peter contorted, dodging then firing in the crowd below. This time he managed to hit a guard and he hauled them up, his throw was harder than it had been for the worker. The man hit the ground hard, sliding and then hit a wall. He didn’t get up, but the bugs I had on him noted he was still breathing.

There were still two of the guards, one of which was the Inhuman. Maybe the master was in the crowd, but then that would mean he was a worker, and I couldn’t see a cape doing that.

 _Wrong universe._ _Different dynamic._

Even so, even realising this, it was hard to conceptualise. Masters were all about minions, and why would they do something their minions would? Except if they actually enjoyed it.

This wasn’t helping.

Peter swung again, catching a worker and immediately released her. The others had acted en mass at a barked order, grabbing the worker from being pulled and trying to pull Peter down.

“Trucks are incoming,” I had bugs say when Peter swung in their direction. They’d arrived, but they’d carted some of my bugs for me. I had them fly away from the trio, only keeping enough that I could see what they were doing: One of them pulled out a knife, starting to sever the webs I’d bound the doors with.

“Caught the last guard,” said Peter. He was on the ceiling, close to that cluster of bugs. “Just the Inhuman and he’s in the crowd. He’s even stopped ordering the others. I can see him, but he’s protected and I think they’ll pull me again if I try to catch him.”

“The three Inhumans are here,” I said. “He must know and he’s biding his time.”

“What about the others?” he asked.

“Police will intercept,” I said. “They’re moving in that direction. Someone must have called.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.”

Peter snorted. “You’re slipping, sister. Here I thought you thought of everything.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” I said. “There’s not much I can do that wouldn’t impede you too. Can’t get on them, can’t trip them up, I don’t think, and blinding them is useless.”

“That’s because they’ve gouged out their eyes like the others,” said Peter. “Maybe they’re controlled too?”

“I don’t know at this point,” I said. “Test the waters, if you find you can’t do anything, then pull back. I’ve got bugs incoming and I’ll be able to figure something out, working on my own. If I fail and they start moving people away, they’ll have lost a lot of their production when the police get here.”

Peter nodded. I clustered bugs together, seeing with my bugs. The three men walked in with confidence, no sign that they were blind. But then, it was likely that they were being controlled. Where that master was, though, I couldn’t tell. There were people in the area, but most of them had moved away when the gun fire had started. I couldn’t find anything suspicious. I started moving my stronger bugs, searching the facility for the web lines Peter was leaving behind.

My brother swung, landing on a wall and firing a quick salvo. The men were _fast,_ all of them deftly moving out of the way before they could be hit. Peter jumped again, firing a web up and swinging around so he could get in the men’s blind spots. I heard a muttered ‘stupid’ reaching my bugs before he let himself fall, firing a salvo of webs while angling himself away from hitting the men.

All three of them moved out of the way as Peter landed in their midst. One stepped forward, flicking his wrist and letting out a knife. He struck and Peter fell back, legs extending in a kick. The man leapt over the kick, dodging it while another move forward to strike. Peter got into a handstand to dodge, pushed himself off into a spin while firing off webs that caught the two men in the face.

One of the men was unaffected, the web sliding off him, while another stumbled back because of the force, his hands instinctively moving to pull away the web. Peter landed, dodged a swipe from a knife, spun low and caught the man’s feet before kicking him in the chest. The man was thrown through the air, sent spinning then slamming into the ground.

The man didn’t stay down, he got up, stretched a little before he turned toward Peter and the two others. I noticed that the man who’d been caught by a web no longer had it on his face. Grab bag capes were a bitch to deal with, more so when a cluster was working together. But…those were the old rules, this seemed odd by the new rules. I didn’t know much about Inhuman triggering, but it seemed odd that it would match so strongly which how Scion and the other had made their powers manifestation.

Three people with the same power, to a lesser degree there was the remaining guard, who had _an_ ability that was similar to these men. That was odd, though, wasn’t it? Did Inhuman triggering cause clusters to form?

I hadn’t paid enough attention, but then getting information wasn’t as easy as it had been back on Earth Bet.

Peter lunged and his quarry fell back, dodging. My brother shot out a web, catching the man as he fell, shooting another which connecting to walkway above. The web shot at the man connected and Peter twisted around, clipping the web and sending the man flying towards the wall. He quickly followed up with a salvo of webs that stuck the man against a wall.

“I wouldn’t do that sliding this,” Peter said, swinging and gathering momentum. “You loose yourself and you’ll fall, probably break a leg.”

The man didn’t listen, he slid free, fell, hit the ground and broke his leg. Peter muttered an oath, he’d been mid-swing, turned away and had missed the man starting to slide.

“Police will be there soon,” I said, through my bugs. They’d arrived in the scene of the stopped cars and bound men. I stared pulling bugs into a form, which summarily got those bugs shot. A waste of bullets. “I’m a hero,” I said through the bugs. “I’ve been called the Swarm. These people were headed for a drug operation. The people there are trying to escape, but Spider-Man’s keeping them busy. You’ll have to move quickly.”

I dispersed my bugs when they didn’t seem to calm down, but I kept track of them, their quick conversation and an officer saying she’d heard the chief gathering people for an operation before she left for patrol. Three cars moved in the direction of the warehouse while two others stayed, cuffing the men who were still on the ground, calling for faster backup.

Peter now had two opponents, both in fighting stances with knives at the ready. One stepped forward, swiped and Peter dodged, catching the offending arm and moving to throw. The man let go of his knife, leveraged himself so he landed on the ground and countered Peter’s throw. It didn’t work, the man grunting as Peter stayed his ground, helped by his power.

The other man stepped forward to strike and Peter jumped, kicked with both feet sending him sailing back. He fired a web and it hit the man in front of him, _sticking._ Peter quickly pushed the man back, running around him while binding him with the long string of web. I could see he’d put though in _how_ he looped the thread around the guy, binding it so even if he used his power, he wouldn’t be able to escape the loop.

He was done before the last Inhuman could get to his feet and he repeated the process in quick order.

“Sirens,” said Peter. “I think my job here is done. Tonight was good.”

“Yeah,” I said, letting out a breathing I hadn’t known I’d been holding.


	11. Chapter 11

**Terrific Trio**

**2.2**

“We’re in the news,” said Peter. It was the morning and we were in my room, riding off a good night.

“Yeah?” I said, locking my phone and to the notes I’d prepared for the Crime Stoppers’ collection procedures. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought about it before, but it would look odd for a fourteen-year-old to cash a cheque. Odd enough to be memorable. I’d have to call in favours.

Peter hummed, showing me his phone. I scrolled through, getting the gist of it. The news wasn’t from the police, instead it was a witness statement about seeing a swarm of bugs taking down men in black cars, and another about Spider-Man swing through buildings. This was the preface before a lead into the drug bust, as well as some strands of silk found which corroborated the story of Spider-Man and the Swarm leading or taking part in the bust.

“Cool, right?” said Peter.

“I’m not really sure,” I said. “It’s a good that people are hearing about it, but what about the police? Too good a job and it might look like they’re incompetent. We don’t want that. It’ll build resentment.”

“They wouldn’t feel like that, would they?” said Peter. “We’re helping people, making their jobs easier. We’re on the same side.”

“Yeah,” I said and a sigh trailed behind the word. “But…people can be stupid sometimes.” I took a breath. “And other times, I can be too pessimistic and see the worst in people. This might just be good investigative reporting, trying to get leads before the police decided the narrative.”

“Which is…bad? Good?”

“Organisations, any organisation, need the public goodwill. It’s why so many businesses put so much money into social development. My pessimism is showing again, and I’m sure some people really want to do good, but others just want do stuff so they can make more money at the end of the day. For the police…which isn’t all bad in some cases but can be very bad in others, it’s…that they want to make their job easier. The best way to do that is to seem like they’re on top of everything.”

“So they’ll gloss over the part where this was us,” said Peter.

I nodded. “The media, when it’s doing a good job, stops that from happening. They tell the narrative as it really is, without the same biases as the police, but with their own biases because they’re an organisation.”

“Organisations are bad, then?” said Peter, a brow raised. “You’re saying that like they’re all bad.”

I groaned. “It’s…complicated.” I sighed, closing my eyes and thinking over it. “And I don’t have a neat answer, which means how I look at them might flip flop.”

He nodded and we were silent, him scrolling through his phone while I thought about which favour I’d call in. I knew a few people who were eighteen, even if by association, they weren’t relationships I’d tended, but there was enough there that I could get them to cash the cheque for me. The problem was questions and maybe danger?

A healthy sense of paranoia was needed right now and I didn’t want to put some poor kid in danger. I wondered if Daniel would help me, maybe cash the cheque for me if he wasn’t too busy. But I also didn’t want to impose. I still didn’t know what a Master of the Mystic Arts did, but I knew it had ties to the multiverse and alternate dimensions. A part of me thought it might involve helping the worlds Scion had ravaged and if that was true, it wasn’t something I wanted to disturb.

But maybe I could ask for a magical artefact?

Or maybe Peter could ask. He was more likable and Daniel was already letting him use his house. They were friends. Sort of.

“So,” said Peter. I looked up. “Me, Ned, Cindy and Abe are thinking about starting a table-top game…”

I shook my head before he could finish. “Don’t get me involved in your nerd doings,” I said.

He took a breath, a scandalised expression flickering on. “Nerd doings?”

“Yes,” I said. “I…don’t roll like that.”

“Come _on,”_ he said. “Your brain is just begging for it. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much your brain wants to do something creative. Calling Inhumans capes, making the whole classification thing and all the hypothetical power runs we do. You’d be an _awesome_ DM.”

I groaned. “Come on, Petey. This…”

“Would be good,” he said. “Keeping track of multiple storylines, flexing that big brain of yours. It could be a good distraction.”

I groaned.

“Please?” he said, pouting. “I mean, Cindy’s not bad at it, but…she’s not as good as how I think you’d be anyway. And you could get to meet the people I hang out with at school.”

I groaned again.

“Please. Please. Please?” he said. “Please? For me? Your brother who loves you? Who I’m sure you love very much too and who you’d disappoint because he already told his friends that they could come this weekend and he’d look uncool if you said no and we had to cancel.”

 _“Fine,”_ I said. “How are we even going to slot this in anyway, between everything we’re doing in our other identities.”

“I was thinking we just sort of…be passive,” said Peter. “I was reading about working, which a lot of people are depressed by. Did you know that?”

“Having bosses is depressing,” I said.

“You say that like you have practical knowledge.”

“I can comfortably say that because I’ve been going to school for what feels like twenty years of my life,” I told him.

“You’re only fourteen.”

I ignored him. “I think I can relate to the shackles of a work environment. I think it’s worse for certain other people. I have a friend at school,” Peter gasped, eyes bulging. Again, I ignored him, though I couldn’t help the smile. “She loved this book, I can’t really remember what it was. And then we had to do it in English. We had to read it, discuss it and then write an essay on it. She came out of the experience _hating_ the book because it was linked to ‘work.’”

“So, it’s like…the concept of work your friend doesn’t like?”

I nodded. “The moment _anything_ feels like work she loses interest. A part of me is scared for her, ‘cause you need to make money and work is the only way to do it. I mean, even crime is work, albeit with more reward.”

“Yeah,” said Peter. He frowned. “I feel like we were talking about something else.”

“Um…You were reading about work, I think?”

“Oh, right. I was reading about work and how it’s important to have a work-life balance,” he said. “It’s more important when you’re an entrepreneur because you essential run yourself. I was thinking about this guy who has set timetables of chill time. When to work and when to just relax. One idea I liked was how he’d give himself ‘moments of self-reflection’ after major events. So he’d, like, finish a deal or whatever and he’d spend time with his family, maybe take them out on vacation or something like that.”

“I’m a more riding the momentum sort of girl,” I said.

“The problem with that is you’re not really resting anywhere in between. It’s like, you do something and it works, right, so you keep going, adding onto it and at the end of the line you hit something, all the momentum is gone, transferred. But it’s not like you’re going to rest after that, when you were riding there was something you were close to achieving and you were so close. So you get started, trying to get at that and maybe you do, but you’re riding the momentum again instead of just…breathing, taking it all in.”

A part of me reviewed, looking back at my past. I could see what Peter meant, riding momentum and feeling the need more than ever to continue after I’d lost it. Then I’d move on to the next thing and to the next, then next until it was the end of the world. I was _sure_ there were moments of peace between it all, time I spent with Bitch and the dogs, with Tattletale, Brian, Aisha and Regent, but they seemed _smaller._

“You’re right.”

I expected a smile, but Peter wasn’t smiling. “Then why do you look sad?”

“It’s…complicated,” I said. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday. When you’re older.”

There wasn’t a quip. “Okay.” He took a breath. “But you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Just…Yeah. I am.” He gave me a small smile. I had to move this along. “You’ve been going to Daniel. Training with him.”

“You noticed,” he said.

“How couldn’t I? The thing with the silk, it’s the same thing that training guy did to you. Except his was more powered, more impressive.”

“I’ve been going there after school,” said Peter. “I don’t know why you were worried about the guy, because he just lets me do whatever. I think he likes what we’ve been doing. If we play it right, we might get magical stuff from him. Imagine the sort of costumes we’d be able to make with magic.”

“They would be cool,” I said. “But…it might my pessimism again, but I sort of get cult vibes from the Ancient One.”

“You’ve met her?”

“Yeah,” I said. I took a breath, gearing my mind up for a lie. Maybe my defences were down and I wasn’t watching what I was saying. “She popped in while I was with Daniel, she wanted to meet me. This was when they thought my powers were magic.”

“What gave you the cult vibes?”

“She told me about what learning magic might be like. She said I have issues and that magic, even if my powers aren’t really magic, was too dangerous a force to wielded by a person with my sort of issues. She told me she could teach me, help me work through my issues in Karma-something. She told me I’d come out of the experience a better person.”

Peter shuddered. “Yeah. I can see why you’d get that.”

Not the truth, but there was some of it in there. I’d met the Ancient One and she’d told me of her agreement with the Faerie Queen. She would offer me asylum on this world, letting its natural defences protect me from all the enemies I’d made, but there were few things I couldn’t do, learning magic being one of them and the other being directly altering my power.

“Daniel is good, though, he seems nice,” said Peter.

“The Ancient One seems good too,” I said. “It goes back to the whole organisation thing. A cult is an organisation just like any other and it can be good or bad depending. Most are bad and maybe they’ve taken over the definition of the word. Or the word cult is only meant for the bad groups like that? Whatever the case…”

“You’re just naturally ‘glass half-empty,’ and you don’t totally trust that they won’t try and pull you in?” said Peter and I nodded, shrugging.

“May’s finally done,” I said, standing. There were still our morning runs, though we had off days now since I had gymnastics and parkour lessons after school.

888

“Shopping,” said Peter. He’d gotten Daniel to cash the cheque and we had twenty-five hundred dollars on us. Dangerous when we were two kids walking down the streets in the early evening—which in winter was _very_ dark—but being the Swarm and Spider-Man helped.

“Yes, but what for?” I said. “I’m thinking dyes, maybe some panelling for our armour. Something light-weight, which will add to the reinforcement of the silk…this isn’t business talk, right?”

Peter shook his head. “No, this is good,” he said. “You’re using the creative side of your brain. I’m not sure how we’re going to do this but it’s like…we can discuss a general stuff but we can’t _do_ anything. Like, we can’t have an operation like the one we did last night, but we can still train, still patrol. But lightly, maybe thirty minutes? We can still stop something that pops up when we’re there.”

“Okay,” I said. “I was mostly thinking dyes, maybe a baton in case I ever have to fight close up.”

“Yeah. I don’t think a baton is going to help you if you ever fight those guys,” said Peter. “They were _fast_ and strong. I mean, not as fast or agile as me, but you saw how well they took a punch.”

I hummed. “Worries me, that we might have a trump running around with Gao’s crew. If they were Gao’s people. Is it racist that we saw Chinese and immediately thought the one person with a Chinese sounding name?”

“We didn’t actually think that. We saw a drug making operation and thought about her, the whole race thing was incidental.”

“Semantics.”

“I don’t think that word means what you think it means.” he said with a bright grin.

I shrugged. “Yeah. Think about it in the abstract, remove language and that’s what I mean.”

“I can sort of get what you were trying to say. Is there a word for that?”

“No idea.”

I shuddered a little, feeling the cold starting to seep into me.

“You know what would have been a good idea? Having Daniel teleport us back home.”

I slapped my forehead. “Dumb.”

“A little,” he said, smiling. “But then we wouldn’t have been able to see that.” He pointed up and I could see a light in the sky. I couldn’t clearly make it out, but for sure it was, but, “Iron Man.”

“Or it could be War Machine.”

“No it isn’t. Is it? I heard he was upstate.”

I shrugged. “Could have tried flagging him down if I’d had more warning.”

Peter looked at me with big eyes. “Or…we could just break into Avengers tower.”

“Yeah…no,” I said. “Don’t want to be shot down by Iron Man, thank you very much.”

“And it would probably leave a bad impression,” said Peter. “Heroes breaking into his place.”

“Above and beyond that it’s _illegal.”_

Peter snorted. “Like you really care,” he said.

“But I really should,” I said. “Let’s go swinging. Make a pass-through Hell’s Kitchen as we head back home. The cold’s starting to get to me.”

We passed by Hell’s Kitchen, not really looking but seeing the sights, swinging around while I took a cursory glance with my bugs. We didn’t find Daredevil, not that I expected it and we changed direction, heading home.

“Dinner,” said Aunt May, when we got back. “Meatloaf.” After a change of clothes, into something more snuggly, and hands washed, we all sat together at the table. “So, how was gymnastics today?”

“Coach said I had the body for it and it’s a pity he couldn’t have had me younger, which was creepy,” I said. Aunt May gave me a look. “I heard from the others he’s very bad at communicating anything that isn’t his craft. There’s a boy there, Shannon—”

Peter winced. “Must have been teased about that,” he muttered.

“Maybe. He seemed comfortable in his skin and he seemed nice.”

“Oh,” said Aunt May. “Nice, huh?”

“Ew. No,” I said. “Not like that. Just…helpful. He helps the Coach move through some of his social…awkwardness? Not awkwardness, exactly, but…social left-footedness?”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” said Peter.

“I know it isn’t,” I said scowling at him as he smirked at me. “I’m…I just forgot the phrase I want. Anyway, Shannon has a strong sense of what the Coach means and he relays that to us. Even so, I’ve heard he’s lost student to it. Some parents aren’t willing to accept that he might have trouble understanding social cues and just immediately jumped to the bad. Also, he can be curt, that plays a role too I guess.”

“Sounds like you like him, though,” said Peter.

“He gets to the point, direct, gives constructive criticism and he doesn’t talk to just to fill the air with words,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

“You are _such_ an introvert,” Peter said. “Please don’t be like that with my friends. I mean, Ned likes it sort of,” and he shuddered, “but the others don’t know you and it might scare them.”

“What’s this?” said May.

“Peter convinced me to DM on one of his nerd games,” I said.

“Puppy-dog eyes?” she asked.

“Puppy-pout more like,” I said. “And he did this thing where he didn’t breathe but kept speaking in a continuous sentence. I acquiesced just to save a life.”

“My bag of tricks! Discovered!” said Peter.

“Wait you did that on purpose?” I said.

Peter looked at me for a long moment, then, “Can’t speak, food in my mouth.” He started shovelling in food.

“Careful, you’ll choke,” said May. “And it’s only a few more years before you stop being so adorable that that works.”

“I’ll never stop being adorable,” said Peter.

“Zits, baby brother. Zits. Speaking of. May,” I said, giving her a serious look. “Peter’s a growing boy and his body is going through changes. If he doesn’t understand teenage acne, then I have to wonder what else he doesn’t understand.”

“You know, you’re right,” said May. She looked at Peter. “I think it’s time, we had the _talk.”_

I held back a chortle at Peter’s expression, choosing the moment to excuse myself. In the scales of sister against brother, I’d just evened the score. I shook my head as I left, the gall of thinking he could manipulate me without reprisal. I chuckled softly when I was in my room.

Yeah, having a brother was fun.

888

“Not yet?”

“Not yet,” I said. Peter sighed. “I didn’t know you had a problem like this.”

“I’ve just never had money like this,” he said. “My mind’s going a mile a minute thinking about all the possibilities, all the things I could buy. I found myself actually window shopping on my way home and I saw some really cool sneakers I would have bought if I had the money with me.”

“Yeah, let’s not have you handle our finances.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But I did have a good idea that might help us. I saw this really good camera while I was window shopping and I thought about maybe us buying it. Taking pictures of Spider-Man, the Swarm or even Lacewing—”

“Still not sold on the name, but…” I shrugged.

“We sell them on-line, make sure we can’t get tracked or whatever. It would mean a steady money while we work through things with the law firm and the whole the Swarm getting a job thing.”

I hummed. “Good idea,” I said. “Especially with how I’ve been thinking about structuring things with the whole Swarm thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m thinking amnesia,” I said. “No one really knows how Inhumans get their powers which means we can add without really having to worry. So, I’m thinking amnesia. I tell them that I just woke up one day like this without knowing who I am and with no way to track my past since I didn’t have any DNA. This will make it easier to explain not having a social security number, even if it extends the amount of paperwork we’ll likely have to go through.”

“That and the cost for them actually doing the work,” said Peter. “How much do you think they’ll charge?”

“Don’t know, but we might want to have smaller firms in the back burner just in case things don’t work out for us,” I said. “When does this ‘mental reflection’ thing stop anyway?”

“Moments of self-reflection,” Peter corrected, “and it’s not even been a day. I was thinking we keep low until the weekend, enjoy the week before we start doing anything both…no, we have different benchmarks for heavy duty, so anything I could consider heavy duty we put off until the weekend.”

“But this doesn’t include anything creative or working towards the creative itch?”

“Yeah,” he said.

Which meant finding the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was still a thing we’d be doing. I needed to ask where he’d gotten his supplies and how he’d gone about ordering them so I could have the same hook-up.

“Something else, though.” I looked his way. “I was thinking about having Ned in on things.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t know much about coding,” he said. “I can fix a computer if I have to, I’m pretty good working through it. But Ned’s smarter. For what I’m thinking we do, we’ll need someone who really understands crypto-currency and someone who can get to the dark web if it’s needed. We could get information on the shady stuff we miss just patrolling. It’ll mean more of a clear path, you know?”

“Don’t you feel like we’re moving too fast?” I said, an unease running through me. It was the logical conclusion to use the Internet to find crime, it would be easier and, as Peter had said, more direct. It should have been something I’d considered. And yet I hadn’t.

I was very good a compartmentalising, for good and bad. Was this part of that? Had I locked away the thoughts because it would be pushing me to look at city wide problems when I didn’t want to? No, not the right thoughts. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t trust myself with all of that.

Peter shrugged. “It just seemed more efficient,” he said. “Especially with how things have been going, with what we’ve been doing. I just…” he stopped as we passed a large group of people and we didn’t speak until we were relatively alone again. “I just thought, with everything we’ve been doing that this is the next step. Your focus has been on dismantling the Big Guy’s operations so that he can’t recover. For that we need the most information we can get.”

“Yes,” I said. “But…the Big Guy is just starting up from the looks of it. He hasn’t been in the ‘game’ as long as the others. It means he’s easier to take down because he doesn’t have much capital, that much manpower. I’m thinking, if we open ourselves up like that, then we’re thrusting ourselves in a whole other league without knowing if what we’re doing now will be successful.”

True in part, but it was mostly rationalisations. The unease was greater now, taking up more mental space, and it was still growing because I _wanted_ it. Memories of Weaver came to the fore, when I’d had all that manpower at my beck and call. I’d had the power to talk to top heroes and have them listen to me, where here I was on the lower rungs of the totem pole. Doing this, doing what Peter was asking for, would be a way of…

I cut off the thought, taking a breath and slowly letting it out.

“Can we table this?” I asked. “Give me some time to get my head around it, what it would entail and plan before we start moving in the direction?”

“Yeah,” said Peter. “No rush. We’re still self-reflecting. This is me just telling ideas I’ve had. But Ned could still help, if only to keep our finances on track while we get things sorted with the lawyers. Working with bitcoins--”

“Bitcoins?” I said.

“Yeah. The go-to crypto-currency,” said Peter. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned them.”

I shook my head. “For some reason I thought they were Drakemas.”

“Like the old Greek money?”

“Spelt differently, like dra…Oh. Okay, yeah,” I said. “No, it’s something else.”

“A story?” I shrugged. “You read too much,” he said. “Anyway. I was saying, using crypto-cash could be a better idea because it removes the need to go and cash money. Especially since we’re vigilantes and the prime material we’ll be getting will need to be hush-hush. We’ll have to use the dark web, which means Ned.”

I sighed.

Give and get. That’s what it felt like being a sibling was all about. He’d given me more time, even when I hadn’t really offered any good reason why we couldn’t move forward. I could give him this, even when I wasn’t too sure about Ned’s utility.

“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”

888

Ned was on his phone, looking around. Peter had sent the text with the location, an alley which usually had little in the way of foot traffic.

“Hello, citizen,” said Peter.

Ned looked up, stumbling back. Peter was standing on the wall. “Oh my god,” he said. “Spi-Spider-Man.” Bugs in the alley started shifting and taking into the air, forming a humanoid mass. He squeaked, stumbling back and falling into a heap of trash.

“Citizen,” I said through the bug.

“I—I didn’t do anything,” he said. “I was just messing around. I swear I didn’t do anything.”

“Ned,” said Peter he jumped down, quickly took off his mask. “It’s us. Calm down.”

“Peter? You’re—”

Peter grinned, standing taller. “Yep. I’m Spider-Man and we need _you,” he_ said, ending it with a dramatic point.

“I’m in,” said Ned.

“You don’t even know—”

“I’m in.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Terrific Trio**

**2.3**

“…so, I’m standing there with these guys and one of them had just stood up after I’d tanked him,” Peter was saying. We were in the library, nestled in a corner with me tracking anyone that might be coming our way. Ned was on his computer, Peter lounged back against his chair and my mind was on the spiders working on our costumes while I read a book.

“They’re strong, they’re fast and they’re better fighters,” he continued, getting more into the story. Ned was no longer focused on his computer, instead looking at Peter. “A part of me is panicking, but another is like, ‘calm down, you got this.’

“I take a breath, looking at all of them and analysing. What are their powers, how do they use them and where can I find the weak spots? They’ve got this thing where they can make themselves slippery, so my webs don’t stick and the Swarm can’t tie them down.”

“For reference, you’re the Swarm, right?” Ned said to me.

“Peter’s Spider-Man, I’m, for the time being, Lacewing, and the Swarm is its own thing,” I said. “But I control the Swarm. Remember though—”

“First rule of fight club, you don’t talk about fight club,” Ned and Peter said. Ned was deadly serious while Peter sounded chiding.

“Right,” I said, my eyes going back to my book. It was mainly about the Starks and the role they’d played in shaping technological innovations. A dry read, but it was interesting because it was one of the places of divergence from my earth. Howard Stark had been a part of the project that had created Captain America, and he’d used that as well as relationships formed with the military to start his weapons empire.

“Anyway. They’re slippery, but I managed to catch one of these guys with a web to the face. So I’m thinking. Why? What was different? Maybe it was because of proximity, the force is greater with the blast being so close, or maybe it was concentration? I caught him off guard. But it also didn’t work on all of them.

“So I decide on my first target. He’s the ‘weakest’ and I lunge at him. He’s fast enough to dodge but I shoot him pretty quickly and I _catch_ him.”

“Awesome,” said Ned.

“So I stick him to the wall, high enough that even with his ‘brute’ nature, he’ll have a hard time just walking it off. I tell him this and the guy just decides to slip free.” Peter sighed. “Broke his legs, which I warned him about, but,” he sighed again, “Taylor tells me not to beat myself up over it.”

“Because of his power, catching him would be difficult,” I said, more for Ned than Peter. We’d had this discussion before and even if he still didn’t like it, it was _there._ Something he could reflect on so he didn’t beat himself up over it. “That would have forced you to get close and that opened you up to getting hurt. It was better this way.”

Peter nodded. “So, one guy down and I’m left with these other two, who _must_ be better than the other one and who’ll know my trick. So I’m thinking, how do I get them? How do I get past the slipperiness? The answer is pretty simple, hogtie ‘em. Make sure that my silk strings catch and offer resistance even with how slippery they are. It was pretty easy after that.”

“Um…this is probably a stupid question, but…how do you have so much experience?” he said. He looked at me. “When Peter explains his fight in the warehouse, it’s an _event_. But you just say you captured over twelve guys in a sentence and it’s not that big a deal.”

I shrugged. “Peter’s a close combat fighter, which means adrenaline, having to fight through the panic. I’m long range, I control my bugs while sitting back and letting them do their thing. There’s less panic, more time to think and plan. That and it’s really easy to just do the same thing over and over since it’s hard to fight bugs.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” he said. He looked away, turning to his computer. “Um…I found it, the gun you were talking about.” I moved a little so I peeked over his shoulder. I could see blueprints of the gun as well as jargon I didn’t entirely get.

“Do you understand any of this?” I asked.

“Here and there,” said Peter. “Energy outputs and trials. Overheating problems with massive power drain issues.”

“I also recognise some of the parts. Well, not really recognise them, but they seem familiar. The crux of it is sound and frequency. It…was part of a bunch of projects for sound as a paralysis device.” Ned frowned. “There’s links to Stark technology but that’s blacked out.”

“Not really the direction we’re supposed to be looking at any rate,” I said. “We know how the gun works and where it comes from. Which either means that the Vulture is working with A.I.M scientists or they’re just really smart.”

“It’s not impossible that he has A.I.M people,” said Peter. “At least those that were complicit in the whole Mandarin thing. But for them to be working in New York, just under Iron Man’s nose…?” Peter shook his head. “That’s dumb.”

“Or, or, or. Incredibly smart?” said Ned. “Double bluffing maybe? It’s not something you’d normally expect.”

“Both are equally likely since we know nothing,” I said. “Okay, you’re useful.”

“Told you he was,” said Peter.

Ned brightened. “So I’m part of the team?” he said. “Do I get my own codename?”

“Do you want one?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation.

“Then yeah. It also makes sense. At some point we’ll be speaking to you and we’ll have to call you by something. Or…Peter will, he’s usually the one who’ll head one-on-one encounters.”

“You guys already have coms?”

“Taylor’s bugs. She can talk through them. She hears what I say and she relays it to you. She’s pretty good at doing it.”

“Even in a fight?”

“Yep.”

“How?”

“I can use my bugs as processing power, which means I can think faster and stretch myself in multiple directions,” I said.

His eyes bulged. “Really?”

“No.”

He deflated, then inflated. “But it has to be something like that, right? I’ve heard that people are horrible at multitasking. Better at just starting and stopping whatever they’re doing, and even then, the brain takes a little time to get used to something new. But the way you describe it…”

“First thing about powers you have to learn. They don’t necessarily make logical sense,” I said. “But yeah.”

“Taylor doesn’t like my powers for some reason,” Peter explained. “Calls them bullshit since they seem to thematically relate to a spider.”

“That’s not it at all,” I said. “Okay to the whole spider thing, but how do you stick to walls through your clothes. The reason bugs stick to surfaces is because of hairs and how small they are or something. Even if the same were true for you, that still shouldn’t work through your clothes.”

“And controlling, seeing and hearing through bugs makes any sort of sense.”

“Apples and oranges. The thing I’m up in arms over is…Someone’s coming this way,” I said. Ned quickly closed his laptop while Peter continued to recline. I looked towards an open book in front of me. Must have gotten wrapped up in their conversation and closed it. A man, in his early twenties, he started a little as he saw us. He scanned through the books, found the one he wanted and left.

“I’m up in arms because you were bitten by a _spider_ ,” I said again. “That’s how your powers should work and yet they don’t. Instead there’s a whole lot of extra stuff in there that doesn’t make sense.”

“Could be that you’re both Inhumans and the spider just like…directed Peter’s powers?”

I shrugged. “Maybe,” I said. “Anyway, it’s not important. I was only saying that because I want you to be aware. Focus less on how an ability should work and how it’s used. Some people aren’t varied in how they use their powers, but some are and they’re limited because their powers can’t do certain things.”

“If I were you, I’d be taking notes,” said Peter. “Because most likely this is going to be useful on our game this weekend. What were you thinking, anyway? For the game?”

“Ellisburg.”

Peter groaned.

“What’s Ellisburg?” asked Ned.

“Nightmare scenario,” said Peter.

“What you get for pulling me into all of this,” I said, “and it’s the sort of thing you’ll get on such short notice.”

“It’s basically a dungeon crawl,” said Peter. “We’re heroes sent in to investigate a large-scale disappearance of a town but there are these monsters there. There’s a whole lot more, but I haven’t gotten to the centre and figured it all out, yet.”

“Are we doing a hero or a fantasy thing?”

“Free-form hero quest,” I said. “I work better with powers and I think it’s why Peter wanted me in all of this.”

“Yep,” he said.

“How do powers work?”

“Usually it’s Peter with his powers, but we’ll have to change that when it’s a group. I’m thinking we use the rating system,” I said. “There are some other things to balance it out, but that’s the basics of it.”

“Why do you even do it?” Ned asked.

“To get Peter thinking in the right direction,” I said. “How to deal with different powers and how to think on the fly. The dice though are something we don’t really do. Should add an element of…something new.”

“But not you?” he asked.

“I’m always doing this,” I told him.

“Even for Iron Man?” Ned asked. I shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “Nightmare scenario, Iron Man’s gone rogue and you have to beat him. How would you do it?”

“That…depends on a lot,” I said. “But I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own. It’d be better if I had a team.”

“Okay, then. You get to pick two other heroes to help you.”

“Oh, you just messed up there,” Peter muttered.

“Thor and Scarlett Witch,” I said.

“That’s just cheating. Those are like…the strongest Avengers,” said Ned.

I shrugged. “Not my fault you gave me a perfect pick. And it’s the smart decision. Scarlet Witch is varied while Thor is… _Thor_. Just angling things right and having him drop his hammer and the fight would be over. Scarlet would be all about distraction or maybe capture. I’m not really sure how her powers work but I’d use her as a blaster, shooting projectiles at Iron Man to impede his mobility.”

“And where would you be in all of this?” he asked.

“Sitting back, sipping tea while the Swarm added more bodies, more targets better giving Thor the right moment to attack. Maybe having bugs sever the wires in his suit.”

“You really have thought about this,” he said and I shrugged.

“You should see the powers she can come up with,” said Peter.

“None of which will be mentioned just in case I want to use them in future,” I put in.

“Still have the meta-knowledge.”

I scowled at him. Peter only grinned.

Ned opened his computer again as we settled into silence. Peter got bored with his reclining and dug into his bag, pulling out some homework. I pulled out my phone, looking through dyes which were both cheap and good quality. I pulled out my notebook and marked their names, making mental notes to start searching for the brands as we went our separate ways.

It was a comfortable silence, something I’d never thought I’d have, especially with Ned. But then, even if he was Peter’s best friend, I didn’t know him that well.

“Someone moving this way,” I would say. At first Ned would immediately close his computer, but after the fifth iteration of that comment, he stopped, settling into a calm.

“Oh, wow,” said Ned. Peter and I looked in his direction. He grinned. “Check this out.”

He clicked and a video came on:

_A man, on the short side, wearing dapper clothes. His face was blurred out as he stood in a large room, dimly lit, but enough that we could see the background. It was cold, made of grey stone with large doors in the distance made of metal._

_“Heather,” he said, voice singsong. It was a moment before something large came into view, out from one of the rooms. It was a creature, larger than a car and made of all muscle. The thing came forward at a run, slowing as it got closer. It stopped in front of the man._

_“Good girl,” the man said._

The image cut short.

“That’s the thing, right? That was in London after the whole Dark Elves thing with Thor,” said Peter.

“Yeah,” said Ned. He scrolled down. “Guy’s selling it. He’s an Inhuman who can control animals with his voice, makes it easier to train them. But this is old. It’s probably been sold by now.”

I let out a long groan and when I heard myself, I thought I sounded like Marge Simpson.

“I don’t think I like this,” I said. Peter and Ned looked in my direction. “They’re selling animals and you _just_ happened on it. What about the darker stuff? The sort of stuff that might give you nightmares?”

Ned opened his mouth. “I…I’m not a kid. If you guys can go out there and put yourselves in danger, then I can do this.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” I said. Ned moved to speak and I stopped him. “Peter can do this because I’m there, protecting him to the best of my ability. I give him detailed analysis of what to expect, I make sure that anything that can really hurt him is out of the way before he goes in and I’m _there,_ waiting to takeover if things turn out for the worst. But here, I can’t help you and I don’t like that.”

“It’s not like you can stop me from looking at this stuff anyway,” he said.

“Yes, but I don’t like the fact that we’re actively asking you to look through it,” I said and I sighed. I looked at Peter, hoping he would say anything to help me but he looked conflicted. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this, go at this avenue. Maybe we should keep things to the surface?”

“You’re the boss,” said Peter, less to me and more to Ned. I looked between them. Ned was slightly upset, maybe thinking I was starting to push him out, and it looked like Peter had something he wanted to say.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” I said. “I’m going to go buy some dyes. See about that camera. Maybe you guys can look for possible buyers in the meantime?”

“Yeah. We’ll get on it,” said Peter. I stood and left, keeping an eye on them with bugs I’d stationed there. They didn’t talk much, only speaking about school while they focused on their phones. Most likely texting because Peter knew I could be a busy body sometimes.

I pulled in a mass of bugs, situated them on the floor and out of sight.

“Hey, Taylor,” said Peter.

“Advanced warning,” I said through the bugs. “I’ll be pulling the bugs away when you’re out of my range.”

“Okay,” said Peter. “I was wondering, can we discuss before-hand about Ellisburg? Strategize, that sort of thing?”

“Using meta perspective? No. But you can discuss powers,” I said. “I’ll pay periphery attention, help you through things.”

I had my bugs in the alley start gathering the costumes into a bundle as I started walking towards them and I shoved them into my backpack as I got there. Ned was a teenager and so was Peter, to them, I was also a teenager which meant I had limited power. I had no doubt that they were unlikely to heed my advice, but what could I really do?

I took a breath and my mind flickered back to Dad. Had he felt like this? Seen me heading straight towards stupid decisions and felt paralysed because there was nothing he could do to stop me?

 _Focus on dyes,_ because I really didn’t want to think about it.

I went to the store, pulling out dyes and putting them into a basket. I bought a full assortment of the primary colours, as well as the colours we’d need for our costumes, to hide suspicion and to play around with the colours if it was needed. With that, I started on my way home, paying attention to my surroundings through my bugs.

A bump and it was intentional, grabbing a wallet as they muttered an apology before they walked away. I moved a little and at the right moment I bumped into the guy, leveraging the fact that he wasn’t guarding to have him fall.

“Oh!” I said, stepping on his hand and kicking in the same moment. A fumble, it would look like. The wallet skirted away. “I’m sorry,” I said, rushing for the wallet. I’d kicked the wallet so that it slid to the guy’s target. The man bent first, picking up and recognition flickering on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I said as the man opened the wallet. “But that’s his.” I pointed towards the guy but he was already gone, running.

“Fu—” he stopped himself, looking in my direction. He took a deep breath. “You don’t know it kid, but you saved my life.” He opened his wallet and handed me ten dollars.

I smiled, thanked him and continued forward, still tracking the guy who’d been running. I got the general gist of the direction he was moving and collected bugs, maybe scare him off, think twice before trying that again.

He stopped, another person in front of him. I clustered bugs so I could get a feel of it. There was a lot going on, a lot of impulses but I pushed everything back, only focusing on the guy and another older guy.

“…this kid,” my guy was saying. “Bumped into me and I lost it.”

“Her fault?” the older guy said.

My guy sighed. “Right. No. It was me. I wasn’t paying attention. I was focusing on putting the wallet away and I didn’t notice the kid.”

The older guy nodded. “I know it seems like I’m being hard on you. But if you redirect blame, you become complacent. This way, you can ask yourself what I can do better.”

“Yeah,” said the younger guy.

The older guy threw his arm around the other, mussing his hair and earning a chuckle. “Come on,” said the older guy, “let’s head back.”

Maybe an organisation? Or just an older brother teaching their younger brother how to make it in the streets. I took a breath, slowly letting it out. Maybe I just wanted something to do which wasn’t just shopping. I needed to occupy my mind and making costumes just didn’t fill as much of my concentration as I liked.

I got a cab, taking me to Freddie’s favourite haunts, collecting bugs along the way. There were guys when I got there, six in total and they were just drinking. I’d tested the devices and they had a range of about three feet. They had trouble detecting lice, but any concentration of bugs large enough that I could use their senses and the devices would go off. I made sure to cluster my bugs out of the range of the guys just in case they had a device on them.

I sat and listened, completing the costumes on the side.

Not much was interesting, but I got some information. Some of the guys were new, learning the ropes of their operations, which meant some things slipped that gave me a little info of the greater operation.

“…with the Jamaicans,” a guy said, Luke. From the little I could remember he was still new into the group.

“Na-ah,” said another, Jerome. “Remember. No talk about operations.”

“Yeah, yeah. Restricted to text,” said Luke. He sighed, taking a sip. “Fucking Inhumans show up and they make things harder. Make this feel like an office job.”

“Hey, if you’re not up for it, then better leave now,” said Seth, an older member. “The Big Man is uptight because of this this shit. Don’t know their powers and they could be listening in and shit.”

“Yeah,” said Jerome. “You keep going at it and I’mma have to tell the Big Man. You’ll lose work.”

“Fuckin’ fine,’ said Luke.

Jerome shrugged. The conversation turned to minutia, discussing girls they’d met and their family lives, though it was in the abstract. I let myself pay less attention to their conversation and mulled the information over. The Big Man was implementing thinker protocols.

A chuckle escaped me. I didn’t entirely know what to feel. It would have been too easy to take him down if he wasn’t smart, just wait for when they were in one place, doing something obviously illegal and then bust them. But this way it would be harder, I’d have to outwit him, which meant it would feel _better_ when I finally succeeded.

_You are such a horrible person._

Even knowing that they were hurting people, a part of me still wanted that challenge, it wanted a sliver of the familiarity of back home.

I took a breath and slowly let it out.

“This is my home now,” I muttered under my breath. Aunt May and Peter made this world home, but I also had friends on other worlds which complicated things. I took a breath and let it out again.

It didn’t help longing for something unfeasible to get back. I’d already said goodbye to the Undersiders a long time ago. It hurt that though rationally I understood that, the emotional side of me still had those moments of longing. I felt the impulse to push them back, the emotions, but I didn’t. I let myself feel them, wrapping myself up in the good and the bad times. They _were_ my friends, my first friends after being alone for a long time. Pushing them away into a compartment, effectively forgetting about them would be an injustice.

I didn’t like that it made me feel sad though.

I picked up and my phone and called. “You and Ned done talking yet?”

_“You were listening?”_

“No,” I said. “But I know you. You looked like you wanted to say something and you were afraid of hurting my feelings.”

 _“Yeah. I saw that. Which is why I waited until I was sure you were away,”_ he said. _“I don’t know if I’ve told you this before, but you have control issues.”_

“You have. I do.”

He hummed. _“Ned thinks you’re trying to push him out,”_ he said. _“He didn’t say it, but…he doesn’t have powers and we do. So he thinks that opening himself up to…what you’re afraid of will make him useful.”_

“He’s not useless, though,” I said. “We wouldn’t have told him if he was.”

 _“Shrug,”_ he said. _“People are complicated.”_

“They are,” I said. I sighed. “I slipped. I’m not self-reflecting.”

Peter groaned. The same groan I’d heard from myself when I’d seen the video with the creature. _“I…thought you might. I really thought the whole DM thing would work.”_

“It is, a little. I’m…learning, trying to see about making something resembling a story for the next time we do this, but…yeah. Sometimes I feel better if I’m moving forward.”

He sighed. _“One small step,”_ he said. _“Can’t expect you to change all of a sudden. Okay, find anything cool out?”_

“They’ve got thinker protocols,” I said. “Restricting communication to text, most likely compartmentalising information.”

 _“That makes them harder to track,”_ said Peter. _“Can you wait a sec? I want Ned in on this. Won’t feel good if he knows we’re talking business without him.”_

“Okay.”

 _“Okay, Ned. You on?”_ said Peter.

_“Yeah. Hey, Taylor, or should I use code-names?”_

“Personal phones so regular names,” I said.

 _“Taylor was following some of our guys,”_ said Peter. _“She says they have thinker protocols.”_

 _“Um…thinker,”_ said Ned and I heard loud clicking. _“Powers that have to do with gathering information, precognition or heightened senses. Right?”_

 _“Yep,”_ said Peter.

_“That means they know about your powers.”_

“About where we were before Peter brought you in,” I said. “They do. Can’t really tell how much they know, only that they’re taking countermeasures.”

 _“Um…I might be able to help,”_ said Ned. _“But…”_

“You were using the dark web.”

_“Yeah. Sorry. But I’m being safe or whatever. I’m not using it to look for anything illegal, just trying to find out as much I can about powers.”_

I sighed. “Just be careful, Ned.”

_“I am.”_

_“Then what did you find out?”_ said Peter.

 _“There’s a hidden wiki,”_ he said. _“Catalogues superheroes, supervillains and anything else interesting. It’s protected and it wanted me to give them some knowledge about how a person’s power worked before I could get in. I…please don’t get mad.”_

I didn’t say anything.

_“Go ahead, Ned. But maybe we discuss this in the future? Can’t make decisions that affect the whole team without the whole team knowing about them.”_

_“Yeah,”_ he said. _“Well. I told them about the Swarm. I added to the story you guys have going, about the Swarm being its own person. Anyway, I told them that since the Swarm is made up of bugs, it makes sense that its processing power depends on the number of bugs that make them up, especially if they’re a mass. I used the story of you guys letting that guy go as proof of concept. They accepted it.”_

“Smart,” I said.

Peter and I waited. Ned didn’t say anything.

“Ned?”

 _“Right. Right,”_ he said. _“Anyway, looking through the wiki, they’ve some information on some of the players in Queens, figuring out their powers.”_

“What do they have on me?”

_“Swarm: Inhuman that’s made up entirely of bugs. Sighting started almost two years ago, stopping minor crime by scaring people off. There’s also something here one…person put in, that you helped a relative of theirs with a bed bug infestation in their building?”_

“I’m freaked out that that’s there,” I said. “I forgot I even did that.”

 _“Hey,”_ said Peter. _“Maybe we could make it our thing. Pest control. I mean, we’d have to specialise in insects, but termites are a thing.”_

 _“Are they even a thing in the city? I thought they were a rural thing,”_ said Ned.

“They are.” I said.

 _“Does your power mean you know everything about bugs?”_ Ned asked.

“No. I just catalogue them. Pull in bugs that feel different and search for them on-line.”

 _“And that suddenly explains your search history,”_ Peter muttered. _“You know, a lot of things in the past that told me you had powers and I’m only now figuring it out.”_

“What I’m wondering is what you were doing going through my search history.”

 _“We have_ one _computer,”_ he said. _“Not my fault you don’t clear it.”_

“Right. I wonder what May thought if she saw it.”

 _“Thought you were going to study bugs,”_ said Peter. _“It’s what I thought. Ned, you’re being quiet.”_

_“Um…”_

“Ignore Peter, Ned,” I said. “Doesn’t understand calling attention to it only makes it worse.”

_“Yeah. Peter has this thing where he can sometimes talk until his brain catches up. Doesn’t understand that not all of us have it.”_

Peter gasped and I chuckled. _“Et tu, Ned? I thought we were best buds.”_

“Back on subject,” I said. “The powers.”

_“Um…okay. They guess that you can see and hear through the bugs since you’ve talked through them, held conversations. Then there’s like these comments that bad guys should beware because any bug could you and it could hear anything. But there’s one guy here who mentions he might have a trick, mentions that he’s selling the info.”_

“I don’t like that,” I said. “The organisation behind the scenes.”

 _“Weren’t you whining about not having something like this?”_ said Peter.

“I wanted it to be public,” I said. “Less…there. That way it makes me think that the bad guys are more likely to get and use that information.”

 _“It’s a pretty wide array of people, here,”_ said Ned. _“Most of them just like cataloguing. Reading the_ About _page and the creators say their site kept being ddossed. I think it might be because a lot of this information is on the Avengers: What Cap can do, the various incarnations of Iron Man’s suits, that sort of thing.”_

“Okay,” I said. “I’m interested in this. But not enough for the charges this conversation will incur. Let’s meet tomorrow, start talking about a way forward. If they have information on me, then maybe they might have information on the people Peter fought, on the Oxen, maybe more Inhumans we might face down the line. Might also track the activity of the other heroes close, maybe we can meet, trade information, that sort of thing.”

 _“Remember, light work,”_ said Peter.

“Easy for you to say when you’re patrolling,” I said. “We all have our vices. Yours are out there, mine are setting up. Ned’s are…”

_“Hours on my computer giving info so you can use it. The guy in the chair.”_

“Yeah. Maybe self-reflection includes this?”

Peter only sighed.

“See you tomorrow, Ned. Peter, when you get back.”

 _“Bye,”_ said Ned.

_“See ya.”_


	13. Chapter 13

**Terrific Trio**

**2.4**

“So is this what you do most of the time?” said Ned. We sat on a rooftop, a box filled with snacks and drinks in front of us. Ned and I were going through a bag each, with me focusing on my range while he would look at his open laptop. Peter was sending him pictures of Spider-Man, but most were blurry or Spider-Man was out of frame. There were a few good enough and those Ned would try would sell.

“Recon,” I said after a nod. “Peter’s the showy one, web-swinging—”

“Slinging,” Ned corrected.

“Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Merch,” said Ned. “If that ever becomes a thing.”

“Which it could if we play things right,” I said. “There’s still the whole hurdle of Peter being a minor, but if things work out with the Swarm it’ll create a precedence with using superhero identities and that’ll make some things easier to do. Anyway, recon is my thing. I usually rotate, going to the places I know Freddie or his forces frequent and then wait for anything I might find useful.”

“Does that work?”

“Not recently,” I said. “Part of it is what he’s been up to. It’s frustrating, because it means he’s doing things and we’re not stopping him. At least not directly.”

Ned let out a hum. “This…isn’t a sexy as I thought it’d be,” he said. “I thought I’d be hacking or something. Like I’d be on this time crunch and I’d have to break into a system and I’d succeed at the last moment and then the info I got you’d use to bust some guys, or something.”

I snorted. “That’s not how this works, if we’re…”

“What is it? What’s going on?” he said, sitting up. It was adorable in a way, because even if we were blocks away, he acted like something excited would suddenly hit us.

“You remember the important guys? The lieutenants?”

“The Big Man, who’s the boss—you call him Freddie—Montana, who has a ponytail and likes to carry around a revolver and brass knuckles, the Oxen, who have the powers, and Fancy Dan who’s good with knives and guns.”

All said with minimal breathing and capped off by a proud smile.

“Well, Montana and Lean Ox just got in and their talking to the people inside,” I said.

I had bugs in there with them, hidden in the walls and clustered together so I could hear them well. More bugs joined the air around us and they started the hiss-crackle that, with a bit of focus, sounded close to human speech.

 _“…ours,”_ said Montana. _“It’s big, so we’ll have to be on watch. An operation like this, with the Swarm and Spider-Man running around out there, is going to be dangerous. But if it pays off, we’ll be rollin’ in cash.”_

 _“Who we hitting?”_ said one man, likely new.

 _“We’ll find out when we find out,”_ said Montana. “ _For now, we wait.”_

“That’s…strange,” said Ned.

“Yeah?” I said, looking away and hiding my smirk. I was starting to like Ned being a part of the team. He had the mind for it. Even if he still had rose-tinted glasses about what this really meant.

“Yeah. I mean…this doesn’t make sense?” he said. “He goes through all this trouble of having procedures to be safe and now he’s just ignoring them? Mom always says the first sign you should do further procedures is if things that should be done, aren’t being done or aren’t done effectively.”

I raised a brow.

“Mom’s an auditor,” he said.

“Oh. Cool,” I said. “And yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Of the whole rating things, which do you think is the most dangerous?”

“Um…trump,” he said. “Multiple powers or just messing with powers should be the worst thing to deal with.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it, thinking about Eidolon and matching him with the most powerful thinker I knew, Dinah.

“Yeah. I suppose you’re right if it’s the right sort of trump power. But I’m going to pretend that’s wrong for a second to make a point.”

“Okay,” Ned said, a light chuckle audible.

“The most dangerous powered individual you can face is a thinker,” I said. “Because information decides the outcome of a fight. The right thinker and they’ll know what you can do, where you’re going to go and ways to counter you. If you’ve gotten the raw end of the deal, you might even get one of the future seeing thinkers and that’s a whole other mess.”

“What does this have to do with the Big Man?”

“I’m coming to learn that ‘thinker’ doesn’t apply to just powers. It should be a catch-all term for people that think the right way. Freddie is one of those people. He watches his enemy and thinks about how they think, about how to counter them. This is too sloppy. Suspiciously sloppy.”

“Long way of saying it’s a trap,” Ned said.

I shrugged.

“So what do we do?”

“See where it leads and if we can use it to our own advantage. Call Peter, tell him to he needs to get here soon so he can trail these guys.”

As Ned made the call I focused back on the hideout. Since they’d gotten detectors, I’d had to be aware of where I placed my bugs and that had an effect on the focus I had to put in while listening. There was nothing interesting in their conversation, just inane chatter sometimes disturbed by more people coming in, some of them bringing cars.

Montana looked at something in his hand, probably a phone. “Okay,” he said. “We’re moving.”

“They’re moving,” I said, standing. Ned shuffled, quickly closing his laptop and shoving his stuff into his back.

“What now? Should I stay here? Or am I going with you and Peter?” his voice faltered at the last. His eyes didn’t settle on me and though he wasn’t shaking, I feel how taut his body was with the few bugs I had on him.

“It’s better if you went home,” I said. He slouched a little, relief clear on his expression. “I don’t know how long all of this will be. We’ll keep in contact over the phone so you don’t have to be here.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I get it,” he said. He was smiling. “Good luck.”

I kept track of him as he left. He quickly got a cab and within a few minutes he was out of my range. I got on my hoodie and mask, connecting my earphones to my phone and putting them in. It wasn’t long after, that Peter landed. I jumped on his back and we kept after Freddie’s men, making sure we were blocks away so they wouldn’t detect us, but still close enough they were in my power’s range.

My phone buzzed and I shifted slightly, pressing the button on my earphones. The wind rushing past made it hard to hear, but having the hoodie up helped a small amount. How much worse was it for Peter. At least I had his back to shield me from the worst of the wind. He didn’t have the same luxury.

Must have helped to have more super-senses.

“You’re already home, Ned?”

 _“Nah. Stopped at a coffee shop with good wi-fi,”_ he said. _“Started reading up on the Oxen. Just in case you guys have to deal with them.”_

“That would be really helpful, bud,” said Peter.

 _“Okay,”_ said Ned. _“Lean Ox and Heavy Ox. They’ve got the same power. Mostly, but from reports it doesn’t work the same way. Both of them have been stopping cars but with Lean Ox it just stops; with Heavy Ox it crumpled around him.”_

“Lean Ox might have tactile telekinesis,” I said. “While Heavy Ox is a straight up brute.”

“That feels like he might be more complicated to fight” said Peter. “If the powers make any sort of sense then Heavy Ox’s strength will be a lot more condensed. He’ll punch and the force generated will break whatever it hits. With Lean Ox it might be more like hitting and everything moving.”

That felt right, but--

 _“Remember, Peter,”_ said Ned. _“Powers are bullshit. They say screw you to physics.”_

Exactly my thoughts. Ned was a _really_ good addition to the team.

Peter groaned. “Taylor, you’re rubbing off too much on him,” he said. Peter skidded to a stop on a building. The rooftop we were on was taller than the surrounding building and I could see cars we’d been tailing.

“Cars are turning in different directions,” I said. “Lean Ox and Montana are together. Lean Ox is driving and Montana’s just chatting. I’m not getting anything important.”

“Forgot to ask before,” said Peter. “Do they have any weapons?”

“Strangely none,” I said. “Knives, mostly. But none of them are carrying sidearms except Montana who has his revolver. I’ve already jammed it. Powers will be at the forefront if this isn’t a trap.”

 _“Or trying know more about your powers,”_ said Ned. _“The more you fight him. The more he learns.”_

I sighed. “Too many possibilities for us to pin one down without more information,” I said. “Ned, do you think you can run searches for crimes in area? Increased drug busts maybe weed or something along those lines. They were planning to hit Gao, so this could be that.”

 _“On it,”_ he said.

We moved again, a quick swing that took us to another building. Peter landed running; leapt across rooftops, doing better parkour without all the training I was putting in. I knew it was his power, that it was also his power that meant he was so much better than me at yoga, but my jealousy didn’t care about all the reason it shouldn’t exist.

We started cutting down the swings, turning to running and jumping which I was grateful for. Web slinging was too fast and too abrupt in how it changed, even when I was expecting it, it still hit me hard. The jostle of the run, the flips and leaps across building, landing on building faces and then crawling up what much better even though that didn’t make sense.

We stopped at a few places. LeFrak City, Rego Park and Middle Village. The only thing they did was grab food or beers.

We’d started the tail in the late afternoon and now the sun was starting its descent, the sky a red hidden behind clouds. We had to cut our call and redo it a few times because we didn’t want to waste our minutes. Ned used the time get home and we used to call Aunt May and tell her we’d be home late, staying over at Ned’s place.

The car stopped at a red light. Montana got out.

“Lean Ox is driving faster,” I said. “Montana’s out of the car.”

“Which do I follow?” said Peter.

“Drop me off and I’ll keep track of Mon—”

Another car had stopped and Montana had gotten on. I used the scant bugs I hand on Montana to track how many people were in the cars. Four including Montana and the driver. They turned where Ox had driven straight, but they still moved in the same direction.

“Follow Lean Ox,” I said.

We tried moving faster but Peter was having trouble keeping up. Most of the buildings in this area were short and squat, which limited him running than web-slinging. But with my bugs I knew how Lean Ox was moving and it meant we could cut corners.

We caught up in time to see Lean Ox jump a red light while another van was drove through the intersection. There was a crash. Ox’s pickup into a faded blue van. Both cars swivelled, the van tipping to the side, its back doors breaking open and tinker weapons spilling out.

“They’re stealing from the Vulture,” Peter muttered. The other cars changed direction, all of them moving in our position.

“Ned, you still on the line?”

 _“Yeah,”_ he said. _“Already calling the cops. I’m tracking Peter’s phone. I have your location.”_

“Good,” I said. “Peter.”

He nodded and then jumped off our vantage point, the swing lower than it usually was. I gathered bugs, preparing to go on the attack. Ox got out of his car unscathed, with even his clothes intact. He was moved toward the front of the van where two guys, hurt by the crash, were crawling out.

Ox reached the first guy and raised him up, holding him by the neck. The man said something, but I didn’t have enough bugs to hear him. The man punched, prompting a flash of light. Both the man and Ox were thrown back, sent tumbling on the ground. Ox was the first to stand, brushing himself off. He seemed unhurt but the shake of the head meant there was _some_ damage.

A possible weakness to internal damage.

We landed on a building close to the action and I jumped off Peter’s back.

I sent a collection of bugs into his mouth and I met resistance. The shield was layered. My bugs could fight through the first few layers, but at a certain point there was just too much resistance and they were kept at bay.

“Forcefield,” I said. “Lean Ox has a forcefield. Onioned, probably the inside is stronger.”

 _“Brute, footing, on it,”_ said Peter. He swooped, catching Ox from behind and hitting him in the legs.

Ox tumbled backward. He tried to roll into a stand but it was unpractised, no form. He wasn’t a trained fighter. Peter found his feet and shot out twin lines; they stuck and Peter twisted around, yanking Ox off his feet and slamming into his pickup.

“Be careful behind you,” I said, but Peter didn’t need it. He jumped as there was a thwip, purple light flashing out of a gun carried by the second man from the upturned van. He fired a quick salvo, each shot missing as Peter jumped out of the way.

Ox, now on his feet, run at the shooter. The gun turned in Ox’s direction and the man shot. Purple light hit and Ox was shot off his feet, sent spinning in the air before he hit the ground hard enough to crack it. He got up, still unhurt though his shirt was singed.

Peter fired a web, caught the gun and pulled it free. The man turned and ran for the cache of weapons on the ground. He didn’t succeed, caught in the foot by Peter’s web and stuck in place.

“Man on the ground is on his feet,” I said. “Careful with the fist.”

 _“Yep. Saw,”_ said Peter. The man rushed forward and Peter jumped to the side, catching the man’s left arm, twisting it back and shooting out a web to stick the man’s arm to his back. Peter pushed the man, making him land with his knees to the ground and shot two webs to stick him to the ground.

“Good move,” I said.

 _“What? What did he do?”_ said Ned, as Peter said, _“Thanks.”_

Ox had used the small scuffle to get close to the pickup. He grabbed it, metal twisting to form handholds, and raised it over his head. Peter fired a web and caught the man in the face. Ox’s head snapped back a little and he lost his hold. The car slipped and crashed over him.

Reinforcements arrived. A pickup filled with six men, five of which were at the back and carrying _machine guns._

 _“Oh shit,”_ I heard and Peter booked. Cracks reverberated, bullets shattering the ground Peter had stood on moments before. He fired webs at buildings at either of the street, pulled and shot through the air. He fired another set of webs and used those to turn into an alley between.

My heart hammered against my chest, my throat dry and a sweat not from anything physical lined my brow. This translated through motion from my bugs. I’d been calling them in and now they were a cloud, using the patches of darkness in the sky as cover.

They descended.

“Peter are you okay?” I said, the words come out hollow.

 _“Yeah,”_ he said. _“But too many guns. You think you—”_

He stopped as the screaming started.

I paid attention to my bugs and I found that they were stinging and biting. Where before they would have gone into mouths and throats to scare, they were now starting to clog up throats, biting eyelids to force their way into eyes, trying to get into the windpipe through the nose, and starting to chew at eardrums. I took a breath and pulled back, not stopping my bugs from going on the attack, but toning it down.

 _Guns._ I didn’t like them. It maybe spoke something of Earth Bet that I fully accepted a tinker gun that looked like it could do a lot of damage but I couldn’t do the same for an assault rifle. But…Yeah, even if there wasn’t a rationale, I didn’t want guns to be a part of this. Peter could dodge beams easily, but guns were something else.

Three more cars arrived and they were immediately clouded with bugs, their guns forced into jamming and the hands carrying those guns facing the full wrath of my bugs.

A flash of light erupted, arcs of electricity spreading out and killing a large portion of my bugs. I used their sight to see that man Peter had caught on the foot had managed to cut himself free. Now he tried to fight Ox who’d gotten out from under the car, bloody in places. Ox tried to rush the guy, but he responded by throwing a sphere. It detonated and started sucking everything towards it, crushingthe bugs that were sucked into its centre.

Ox had to bend low, digging his hands into the ground to not be sucked in. The effect faded and the suction stopped. The distraction had given the guy opportunity to grab a large gun with three prongs facing outward. The man shot and Ox was surrounded by a blue haze. The man pointed up and Ox was thrown up.

 _“Oh, wow,”_ said Peter. _“Taylor. Have you jammed the guns?”_

“Yeah, why?” I said. The shooting had stopped. Some had run while others were on the ground, curled in the foetal position.

 _“Because I’m about to do something stupid. Please don’t hate me,”_ he said before rushing into the thrum.

The black guy was trying to move to his friend, using his gun to keep my bugs at bay, but it wasn’t working. I already had lines of silk around the thing and I was just waiting for the right moment to act. One guy tried to fight through the bugs in his ears, moving towards the weapon’s cache. More bugs descended on him, getting under his clothes and biting until he was still again.

Peter flew through my bugs, caught the anti-gravity gun with his web and pulled, swinging away in the same moment.

 _“Yep, done,”_ said Peter. _“Bag ‘em up.”_

“Give me webs,” I said and then I was working on it, binding the people who were still on the ground. Even as I did that, my mind wasn’t wholly there, instead it was on Peter almost getting shot.

I was still thinking on this, the advantage I’d be losing, when a form plunged down from the air. It was…big and I couldn’t tell what it was. It sliced Peter’s webs without effort, grabbed the two men and then shot off into the sky, all while gathering only a few bugs. It was out of my range not shortly after.

 _“I think we just met the Vulture,”_ said Peter and he landed beside me, holding his large gun.

888

I found the man working on his computer. A moment later he was engulfed in a thick cloud of bugs. He opened his mouth to scream and stopped as bugs rushed for the opening. The bugs stayed there for a second, then slowly moved out of his mouth and away from his face. Bugs started crawling up a wall, directing him to look up to the sight of the entire ceiling covered in a mass of bugs.

The panic was clear. Bugs on his chest could feel his heart hammering against his chest; the air had the salty sent of his sweat; and his Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. But he did his best to look calm.

“Sw—” He tried and his voice broke, too much pent-up emotion.

“I know where you live,” the bugs whispered.

The man swallowed. “Is this a threat?” he said.

“Send a message,” the bugs whispered. “Everyone you know, every ally, every enemy, every competitor. No guns, the moment I see one, the gloves come off, and you have no idea how easily I can find and kill all of you.”

“No one will agree to that,” he said, voice shaky.

“Your countermeasures only mean something because I’m trying to work within the confines of the law,” the bugs whispered. “The moment I don’t…I am immortal, my consciousness spreads across _every_ bug in this city. I can find anyone. I can kill anyone. It’s in your best interest if you don’t test me.”

The man nodded, slowly.

“Don’t disappoint me, Freddie,” the bugs said. “I think a part of me respects you.”

The bugs pulled back, disappearing into the darkness but leaving enough of themselves to observe. The man stood, brushed himself off and then let out a shaky breath. He left his office and went upstairs, checking two rooms until he finally went to his own. He stood, looking at the sleeping form.

The sleeping form noticed.

“Fred, what’s going on?”

Freddie took a breath. “I…think we might have to leave the city,” he said.

I pulled back. His operation was likely over, if he wasn’t trying something underhanded. A part of me was disappointed, both in how unsatisfying the resolution had been and the fact that I’d gone back to using fear as a source of power.

 _But Peter could have died,_ I thought and much though I wanted to feel disappointed in myself, it wasn’t a strong enough _want_ that I wouldn’t do the same thing a thousand times over. I wasn’t about to take the chance of my brother getting killed when I could have easily stopped it. Even if it meant losing personal progress.

I started my walk back home.


	14. Chapter 14

**Terrific Trio**

**2.5**

“You know,” I said as I got my papers into a pile. Maybe I’d gone a little overboard with this, but a part of me was excited. Or maybe I just had things I wanted to distract myself from without putting it out of mind. It was a hard balance to strike, especially when putting them out of my mind something that was easier to do.

But I’d already done something I regretted, fell back on old behaviour, and I didn’t want to do more damage.

“I thought you’d be more excited about this,” I said.

We were in the living room, the furniture pushed back to give us more space. We’d divided things up. My side had a large map, while Peter’s was filled with pieces of his taken apart gun, his toolbox, printed out blueprints and three thick textbooks open in different places. Even speaking to him, he wasn’t looking at me, instead delicately taking apart the base of the gun which housed a glowing purple rock.

“I am,” he said, distracted.

He twisted out a screw and put it with the others. He pulled out the casing for the purple glowing thing. It had a mess of wires, all connecting to a copper coil and spreading out through the gun. He frowned and took a picture, flicking through his phone.

I sighed. “What are you building anyway?”

If it was anything like Tecton, he’d be bursting at the seams to tell me what he was building and what he was trying to do.

“Figuring how this damn thing was made so I can finagle with it,” he said. His phone chirped and he quickly looked through it. “It’s an anti-grav gun. The prongs,” he pointed at them, “send the field outward to catch onto things. This thing here,” he pointed at the purple rock, “is likely its power source. Ned thinks so at least. I want to turn the prongs inward, smaller and targeted, localising the effect.”

I shook my head. I could put the pieces together, but…I didn’t even want to think it. I might be wrong and that would hurt _a lot._

“What does that mean?” I asked instead.

“It won’t be flight,” he said, “but it’ll mean floating. Maybe you can jump and activate it, so higher jumps?” He shrugged. I didn’t say anything, _couldn’t_ say anything, because what could I say? Peter had been looking at me. He shrugged again. “You’re building me a costume, it’s the least I can do,” he said.

“Love you, little brother,” I said.

Peter smiled, going back to his work. I went back to mine, starting to collect my ants and picturing what I wanted. I thought about the kind of creatures Nilbog made and I started having the ants form indentations in the paper in patterns.

“Is that braille?” Peter asked at some point. He’d gotten up from his work to grab some juice. I gave him a nod. “Of course you know braille. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you.”

Not intentional, but it still hit in a place that made get hot flashes.

“Sorry,” I said. “But pot meet kettle.”

Peter raised his hands. “Wasn’t judging,” he said. “Just noticing how easily you keep secrets. You’d make an awesome spy.”

“Says the guy who can walk on walls,” I said. I focused on my bugs, on the braille and then indentations they were making. “Do you have any idea how much of an advantage that is? People don’t have a habit of looking up. You could just saunter into a place just by walking into on the ceiling.”

“Well, you don’t even need to be there,” said Peter. “You could be three blocks away and still managed to get any sordid details you wanted with your bugs.”

I grinned. “I guess you’re right. My power is cooler than yours.”

Peter took a breath. “Trickery and deception,” he said. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“And yet you implied it pretty well,” I said. “Calling it. No take backs. My power’s more awesome than yours and that’s that.” I shrugged.

Peter waived it off, glancing at his phone. “It shouldn’t be long before the others are here. Let’s fix the place up?” he said. I nodded and we started packing up, moving the furniture back and starting on the snacks. I set up the board on the table, putting pillows for everyone to sit on.

“Last minute thing, but I invited Su,” I said.

“Su as in your ‘friend,’ Su?” he said. I nodded. His frown was genuine as he looked at me. “You know. I thought she lived in Canada.”

I snorted. “I have…not many friends, but people I talk to.”

“Is it because of fear? Because I’m sure it’s fear.”

“Nah, it’s protection,” I said, puffing up my chest and, with a mean grin, flicked my nose. “They know that Papa Taylor is where the safety’s at.”

“Are you trying to impersonate something?” he said.

“No…just trying to seem tough. Isn’t that what tough guys do? Flick their noses, roll up their sleeves and flex?”

“If you’re from the eighties maybe,” he said and he frowned. “Was it the eighties? You’re thinking about the movies with the guys with greased back hair and their rivalry with the preppy guys, right? They snap their fingers when they fight.”

“Not the finger snapping, but yeah. And they _have_ to be earlier than that, don’t they? All I remember about movies from the eighties is a crappy fashion sense?”

“And that movie with the laser samurai.”

 _“Star Wars,”_ I said and I groaned. “Do you know that feeling you had when I hadn’t watched the Incredibles. Well, that’s what I’m feeling right now.”

“But I have watched Star Trek.”

“Star _Wars,”_ I said. He was silently chuckling. “Yeah, we’re going to have to watch them again. Maybe if you do, you’ll get how awesome they are.”

“As long as we watch the prequels,” he said. “I really liked that Dark Mauling guy.”

“Yeah, he’s awesome,” I said. The first knock came in and Peter went to open the door: Ned standing on the other side.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said, pulling off his bag and reaching into it. “Brought snacks.”

“Never a problem,” said Peter. Ned had pulled out one bag of chips amongst his assortment. Peter took it and looked it over as though there was something interesting on the package. “Good choice. Good choice,” he said sagely. “I just _adore_ this grade.”

Ned grinned. Both chuckled.

“I have no idea what you two are doing,” I said.

“Adulting,” said Ned.

I snorted. “Is that what you think adults do?”

“Isn’t it?” he asked.

“No. Adults mainly worry about the money they don’t have to pay their bills.”

“Don’t listen to her, Ned,” said Peter. “Taylor could make you worry about of a unicorn if you let her.”

“Hey,” I said. “I once read this story about a unicorn that kidnapped…let’s call it _innocent_ girls, killing anyone that tried to rescue them. I mean…unicorns are not flowers and rainbows like everyone thinks they are.”

Peter and Ned were looking at me. My brother just shook his head. “See, _see,”_ he said. There was another knock and it was Su, carrying her own bag filled with jerky.

“Su,” I said. “This is my brother Peter and that’s Ned.”

“Hey,” Ned and Peter said.

“Hello,” said Su. She shook Ned’s hand and then when she took Peter’s hand, she turned it over, giving him a kiss at the back of the hand. I closed my eyes, letting out a loud sigh. Ned chuckled while Peter stood stock-still, a deer in headlight. His cheeks were red.

“Guys, this is Su, my friend.”

Su gave me a look. “We’re actually friends?” she said. “I thought I was the girl that just stuck to you like a barnacle.”

“You _are_ clingy,” I said. “But…maybe it’s grown charming over two years. Or maybe it’s just Stockholm Syndrome.”

Su was smiling. She looked around. “Chateau de Parker,” she said. “You know, this place isn’t what I imagined it.”

“I’m curious what you imagined.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Something utilitarian. Grey walls, a prison bed. It’s got more personality that I thought. Hell, _you_ have more personality here. You’re talking, you’re smiling, you’re _engaging.”_

“She usually doesn’t?” Peter asked, his earlier blushing forgotten. “You know, I don’t really know what my sister’s like at school. Let’s sit and you give it all to me.”

I groaned, because it was already lost. Su liked talking and having an invitation would only egg her on. They went to the living room while Ned and I grabbed a bowl and poured the excess of chips he’d brought, putting the drinks Su had brought with her in the fridge. There was a knock, Abe and Cindy, and they’d brought their own snacks.

“I’m gonna be stuffed with junk food after this,” said Abe.

“Which is a godsend, honestly,” said Cindy. “As you can see, my parents are health nuts.”

“My Dad was like that while dating this trainer guy,” said Su. She frowned. “Didn’t like him. Nice guy, but he just forced _everyone_ into his health nut lifestyle. Even went vegan for a while which is _not_ for me.”

“Then howcan you hang out with Taylor?” said Peter. “Do you know she has me waking up four hours before school so we can run? She’s had me doing it for…so long that it seems like it’s been most of my life.”

“Buy that without a doubt with what I’ve seen in Gym,” said Su. “Girl can run.”

“Why don’t you join track, then?” Cindy asked.

Shook my head. “Pressure and expectations,” I said. “You do something and it starts out fun. But then the people who live vicariously through you keep making it about winning.” I shook my head again. “I’d rather just do what I do for myself.”

 _“Preach,”_ said Su.

“Wait, are you the ‘no work,’ friend,” Peter said, and then he shook his head. “Why am I even asking, of course you’re her. Taylor must only have one friend. I mean, I didn’t even think that was possible, but here we are.”

“You talk about me at home?” she cooed.

“We were talking about work or something,” I said.

“Work and depression,” said Peter for Ned, Abe and Cindy’s benefit. “Most people are depressed at their jobs and we were trying to pin down why.”

“What did you decide on?” asked Cindy.

“Work is naturally depressing,” I said. “It gets better if you’re an entrepreneur.”

“And even then, you must have the right personality,” Su said.

“It’d be cool if we just didn’t have to work,” said Ned. “Just…do whatever.”

“Unfeasible,” said Cindy.

“Unless our AI overlords take over,” said Abe.

“As long as they aren’t Ultron, I’m fine,” I said.

Abe shot me a surprised look. “You’re fine? You know what that means right? AI’s—”

“Ah-ah,” said Cindy. “I’ve seen where these sorts of conversations go. Let’s not. I want to see how you handle this. Peter’s been singing you praises.”

I took a breath, suddenly feeling nervous. “Okay then,” I said. “We’ll start things off with powers. This…still isn’t refined, mostly making it up as I go along, but I’m hoping we use this campaign to figure things out and let things naturally form?”

“Anything’s fine,” said Ned. “Let’s just start already.”

“You been thinking about your power a lot?” said Abe.

“More than a bit,” he said.

“Then how about you start things off. We’ll start with a category, there can be overlap between two or three. You’ll decide the broad strokes of the power, but the party and I will decide how it works, any drawbacks, depending.”

“Why drawbacks?” said Su.

“Realism,” I said. “Too powerful and I’ll have to scale things up.”

“She also likes you using your power in a ‘thinky’ kind of way,” said Peter. “So…clue.”

I scowled at him but didn’t say anything. “Since you’ve got a power Ned, what are you thinking?”

“Um…we’re all going to be a team, right?” he said.

“Yeah,” I said. “The stage is thus: You guys are a secret military organisation that deals with what’s called Nightmare Zones. Basically you’re the people sent into places that regular heroes can’t take care off, trying to figure out and either help the people there or end the threats.”

“And this place that we’re in?” said Su.

“Ellisburg,” I said, looking at the others with an amount of suspicion. Ned was the one who gave it away. Peter had _totally_ given them meta-knowledge. “Some days ago, nearing a week, everything in the town went quiet. People stopped calling relatives, no one coming in or out, people that went investigating disappeared and even a team of capes—”

“General name for superheroes and supervillains, depending,” Peter added.

“The government sent you in, hoping for a quick resolution so that they can tell the worried public what’s happening.”

“And to avoid stupid people that’ll think it’s cool to investigate the place and get hurt,” said Cindy.

“That too,” I said. “Anyway, first we figure out powers, names and costumes. A little about background before we start the campaign.”

“Can we not think of backgrounds yet?” said Peter. “I’m not sure if I’ll want to keep this character for future campaigns. And this is a dungeon crawl, so…”

“Yeah. Okay. If you have a back story you can share, or we can do that another time.”

“Vote on no back story,” said Ned. Abe voted against, Cindy and Su shrugged, not caring either way. “Okay, so my guy is a thinker,” Ned said. “I was thinking maybe he can see people ‘paths’. Like…if they see a car moving the can see the path it’s taking through these lines that only he can see.”

Su shook her head. “I don’t see what you’re getting out of it.”

“Trajectory is the most obvious,” said Cindy. “It would make you a great marksman.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” he said. “So, drawbacks. Are we going to roll?”

I shook my head. “For now I want to limit how powerful a person is. A six would be awful,” I said. “I’ll leave it to the party to decide. If I feel like they’re being too light with the draw backs and I’ll step in and it’ll be _harsh.”_

“Okay, then,” said Peter. “Limited to line of sight. It can’t track the path of anything that he can’t see.”

“But then it just become useless,” said Abe. “What if a person hides behind a barrier? Does that mean his power doesn’t work anymore?”

“We…could do a shaker thing,” said Cindy. She had a small notebook open in front of her. “His power works in a range around him. In that range he can track the paths things will move.”

“Question on _how_ ,” said Su. “How does it work on a person. They’re running forward, but they’re about to dodge or something. Will his power show the dodge or will it show after?”

“I’d like it if it had an element of future knowledge,” said Ned.

“Okay,” said Abe. “Then maybe we shorten the range? I was thinking maybe fifty-four yards before, with the whole range thing.”

“Cut it to a third and I could see it having that future sight flare,” I said.

“But is that what we want?” said Peter. “Future sight at eighteen yards. Or fifty-four yards of immediately knowing when people are headed our way. It means never getting ambushed.”

“Makes sense if we’re shoring up weaknesses,” said Cindy, looking at Ned.

Ned shrugged. “But I get agility,” he said to me.

“You can have that,” I said. He grinned. Through the bugs in my room, I made a note to scale up Ned’s dodges by half a number with each roll.

“A question,” said Cindy. “Do we get the required secondary powers that mean we can actually use our powers?”

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking then yes,” I said. “Ned automatically gets increased processing power so his brain can handle all of the information he’s given by his power.”

“Does it come with weaknesses too?” she asked. “If, for example, I wanted to have wings and be able to fly. Would that mean I’d have to have hollow bones?”

“No. You can have the form you want, within reason, and a power above that,” I said. “I’m allowing this so you can have non-standard forms.”

“So I could be a gas if I wanted to and still have a power?” said Su.

“You could,” I said.

“But then you’d be punished and have a condition like you’re a flammable gas or something,” said Peter. “Be clever, just not ‘I’ll-munchkin-this-game-that-doesn’t-even-have-all-its-rules-yet’ clever.”

“Noted,” said Su. “Scrap the thunder gas idea.”

“Do you have a name, Ned?” I asked.

“Navigator,” he said, sounding proud of the name.

“Good one,” I said. “Who’s next?”

“Me,” said Peter, smiling. “And I want duel categories. Shaker-Mover. I want to be able to fly and take people with me.”

“And this is where I introduce the meta-knowledge penalty,” I said.

Peter slumped. “That’s not a thing.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you told everyone what to expect.”

“Except me,” said Su.

“Except you,” I agreed. “Meta-knowledge penalty. I roll and I get to decide the draw back.”

Peter groaned, but there was something off about it. _“Fine.”_

I rolled: _Six._

“Ha-ha!” said Peter, punching the air in success. My scowl only got deeper.

“Okay,” I said. “You can fly. Whenever you land, you let out an effect that’s about seven feet wide. The effect imparts all of the momentum you had during your flight on any living being it hits, shooting them ‘up.’ Up being where your head’s pointing at the time. You can also ‘take back’ the effect by flying up again, temporarily pulling people with you.”

“Let me guess, no durability for my allies?” he said. I shook my head.

“Oh wow,” said Cindy. “You were right,” she said to Peter.

“Right about?” I said.

“Your die is rigged,” said Abe. “Peter bet you’d create a cool power while making it _awful_ for him to use so you could win the eternal game of Sibling Rivalry.”

“I lost this, but I got _mah-mah-mah-money, money,”_ he said, singing the last word.

“Wait,” said Su. “How do you know they didn’t plan this?”

“We can’t,” Ned said quickly. “So the bet is void.”

“What? But—Taylor,” he whined.

“We talked about it,” I said. “Or we did not. It could be either of the two.” I shrugged. “I’d opt on the side of caution if I were you.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Abe. “Sorry, Peter.”

He crossed his arm.

“Do you have a name, Petey?”

He glared at me. “Null,” he said though.

Abe was next and he chose a non-standard form, which I liked. “…he’s tall and bulky,” he said. “He’s got grey skinned, lined with course fur. He’s got long claws and teeth like a sabretooth. I want a power that has to do with strength, maybe like the Hulk. And if I could make a request, Taylor should be the one to make up the power.”

The others shrugged. “Okay. You can absorb and redirect kinetic energy with no upper limit. But you have to be expecting it, and you have to guess how much kinetic energy whatever is coming at you has. You also can remember how much kinetic energy anything that’s ever hit you has.”

Abe shrugged. “I’ll accept it. I wanna be Remus.”

“Can we do that, pick the names of fictional characters?”

“We’ll deal with it on a case by case basis,” I said. “I don’t want a hard rule because some, like Abe’s, fit thematically.”

“I want to be a breaker,” said Su. “Can I shifting into like…geometric shapes of light that move around?” I nodded. “Okay, that,” she said, “and my power is…hmmmmmm…I don’t know. Don’t really care about the powers, I just want to be a geometric-light being.”

“Can I try to give her a power, since she doesn’t have one?” said Cindy. I shrugged. “You can move the individual shapes you hold inside of you. You can throw away a part and it will grow, forming a shield that lasts only for three seconds but can take any hit.”

She looked at me, expectant.

“I’ll accept,” I said. “But she loses ‘mass’ with each shape she throws away. She’s made up of thirteen shapes and the moment she’s on her last she reverts back to her human form. It takes fifteen minutes before she can get back all her shapes.”

Cindy nodded. She looked at her notepad. “Question: Is there a tinker penalty?”

“Yes,” I said. “I _really_ don’t like tinkers.”

“They would be a pain to account for,” she said. “But…I’d like to be one. How would that work?”

“You’d have to have a specialisation—”

She smiled and my stomach sank. I felt like I’d walked into something ugly. “Can I pick my specialisation?” I nodded. “I want it to do with energy. I can restrict myself. I’ve only made one gun; it has a two-minute recharge time.”

I gave her a long look. “Let me guess,” I said. “Your gun’s a kinetic gun.” She only smiled. “Well played. Well played. I’ll give you a respect bonus and say you have armour filled with a kinetic energy battery. It slowly fills up when you move.”

“Respect bonus?” said Peter. “Feels like you’re just making this up as you go.”

“Why, yes, yes I am,” I said.

888

_All of them looked up, feeling a pit of unease as they saw their only transport disappearing into the dark sky. They’d seen scenarios like this countless times, being dropped off and not knowing what they were getting into._

_“This never gets easy,” said Null, turning to face the small town in the distance. Hidden by the moonless night, the heavy cloud cover and the pouring rain. Invisible because not even one light shone in the town. Then he turned to his team, the people who’d saved his life more than once._

_Navigator, their thinker, and perhaps their prized member. Wearing an outfit that was less costume and more military gear, dark in colour with grey panels, a mask with compound eyes. He had guns and knives strapped onto him, with the largest gun on his back, an impractical looking sniper rifle that Lady Plasma had supped up not to require any bullets, less recoil._

_Flash Grenade, wearing long flowing robes, a choice she now regretted because the rain had almost soaked it through. She was lucky to have Remus standing beside her, so much taller, his bulk taking the brunt of the rain on her behalf._

_“Told you it was impractical,” Lady Plasma muttered, a smirk on her. Her yellow and blue armour flashed, light congealing around her face and fading into a hard mask, hiding her face. She flicked her hand and lines of yellow light ran down her arm, there was a fierce glow as her weapon formed, a large gun she needed both hands to carry._

_“Trouble,” said Navigator. He’d seen a line, suddenly flickering into existence as something accidentally entered his range. The line pointed not towards them, but towards the little town. Navigator was surprised at how fast the line was cancelling itself out, speaking to the speed of whatever it was, was moving._

_“Scout,” said Null in the same moment that he took off, trusting that his team wouldn’t panic, that they’d keep on target even as he moved to stop what might cause this mission to be so much harder than it needed to be._


	15. Chapter 15

**Terrific Trio**

**2.6**

_“Navigator, you see anything?” said Null._

_Navigator had his gun out, looking to and fro. It was a big thing, clunky and on the heavy side, but it brought him a measure of comfort._

_“Noth—”_

_He stopped short as he saw a line in the distance, pointed straight towards them._

“Something,” _he said. “A line.”_

_***_

“Just one? Now that’s suspicious,” said Abe.

“Maybe this is foolish of me, but this might just be introducing us to the world,” said Su. “Letting us know the monsters we’re dealing with.”

Peter shook his head. “Story conventions are going to ruin us,” he said. “Let’s pretend that this is a mission. We’re investigating this, trying to figure it out. So what do we have?”

“We’ve got a person who’s made a town disappear,” said Ned. “Above that, we don’t know much about them.”

“Then what can we assume?” Peter asked.

“That they’ve got a healthy sense of self-preservation,” said Cindy. “They’ve _got_ to know that doing this would earn our attention, right?” She looked at me. “Back story, would he know about us?”

“Not about you specifically, but he’d know that big threats are often nulled before they become a thing,” I said.

“So, he’ll have been preparing for us,” said Cindy.

“He knows that people will be after him,” said Abe. “But he doesn’t know about their powers. If he’s smart, the first thing he’ll do is figure us out.”

“Cool to know,” said Su. “But it really doesn’t help us now, does it?” She shrugged. “We’ve still got a monster headed for us and _we_ don’t know what it can do. We don’t even know what our mad men can do in the first place. Just that a town disappeared.”

“Full frontal attack,” said Peter. “Trip whatever plan they have going, learn and consolidate our information to get a better picture of what’s going on.”

“We also limit the information they get,” said Cindy. “We should show them the full set of our abilities.”

“Wait,” said Su. “Just thought of something that should be obvious. People have disappeared and now there are monsters. Doesn’t that mean—”

***

_A roar, so close all of them could feel it running through them. Their conversation stopped as they saw it, a monster, half again as tall as a pickup. It had massive arms, short and stumpy legs, a small head with deformed features. It looked…less a person, and more a monster made humanoid._

_Its protruding belly sloshed as it moved,_ running _towards them at a pace far faster than should have been possible for its size._

_***_

“I level my gun and I shoot its eyes,” said Ned. He threw his d10 and landed on a six, modified to an eight for his power.

***

_Acting on quick wit, Navigator levelled his gun and shot. There were three thumps, a blue-green light shooting out and cutting through the air. It met its mark, hitting the monster in the face._

_It roared, this time a sound filled with pain as it stumbled forward and finally fell. It broke on impact, it stomach bursting. Navigator stumbled back, muttering an oath as three more lines erupted, shooting towards them._

_Miniature monsters, monkey-like in how they moved. They weren’t necessarily short, but their backs were bent, their legs digitigrade and their arms ending in claws. They were chattering as they moved._

_Null flew forward and landed, his power swept across the field. All of the creatures, as well as the team too—_

_***_

“Wait,” said Abe. “I wouldn’t take off.”

“Explain,” I said

“Well, momentum is just kinetic energy,” he said. “We’ve been a team a long time, so I’ll know the speed he takes off and lands.”

***

_Null flew forward and the team moved, jumping onto Remus for safety. Null landed and his power swept out, hitting the creatures and the team. The creatures were thrown into the air, while the team managed just in time to take hold of Remus. The effect still took hold, pulling them up into the air before suddenly letting go and having the fall onto the ground._

***

“Wait, what?” said Peter. “That’s all it does?”

“That’s all _what_ does?”

“My power,” he said. “I’m…I thought it’d be more awesome than that.”

I shook my head. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said and he waved his arms around. “I’m not actually throwing them. I’m just having them rise into the air and that’s not even _hurting_ them.”

“But…it was sort of obvious,” Cindy. “It can’t kill because it still has to take us away. So it has to impart momentum all throughout the body and just go over the whole thing about sudden shifts in movement and their effects on the body.”

“And no one said anything about you being able to have a crashing down shaker effect,” said Ned. Abe chuckled while I gave Peter my most smug expression.

“Okay, now for us laymen,” said Su.

“Thing goes up and gravity works away its momentum,” said Cindy. “It gets to the highest point, stops and gravity makes it fall. For Peter’s, I mean _Null’s_ ability to be really effective, he’d have to move _really_ fast so that the transfer makes the targets go so high that when they fall, it _hurts._ ”

“And with how large his range is, if he does that, we won’t be able to hang on and we’ll be thrown up,” said Ned.

“Making me effectively useless unless I’m alone,” he said. He crossed his arms, scowling at me. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, little brother,” I said.

_***_

_The creatures twisted mid-air, landing without trouble and lunging at the closest figure:_ Null. _The first of the monsters ran its claws through the air as Null tried to fly back, its claw ripping through his costume and tearing at his chest. The second, just after the first, took his side, red blooming as Null flew back in shock, landing and stumbling back. That landing, ungainly, unpractised, was what he needed because his power took hold and the last lunging creature was sent slightly up, missing in its bid to slash at Null._

_Lady Plasma levelled her gun and shot, only to miss as the creature contorted through the air. Landing on the ground in their midst._

_Remus moved, slashing and with that motion he turned the monster into pulp._

_Still two creatures remaining, but they had wary looks as they chattered._

_“Remus, roar!” Flash Grenade shouted and Remus followed suit without hesitation. The sound was loud, feral, filled with anger, surprise and fear. It was the same sound the big creature had made, the same intensity, and with it, the monsters turned tail and ran._

_“Oh, god. Oh, god,” said Null, the words weak and short._

_“Calm down,” said Lady Plasma. “I have a first aid kit.”_

_And indeed she did. She’d used a third of her battery’s energy to summon her gun, energy she’d gotten back from the walk into the town. Now she used a quarter of her supply. Yellow lines moved from her back, down her arms and light flashed, congealing into a large box._

_“Flash Grenade,” said Navigator. “More might be coming. Break and be prepared to shield us.”_

_Flash Grenade nodded before she exploded. Her body breaking as she became a being of light, geometric shapes making up a humanoid shape which was slowly growing into a cloud. The shapes grew and shrank, spinning and crashing into one another, forming sparks when they did. None of them were paying attention to this, instead they were paying attention to their surroundings, while Lady Plasma worked to staunch Null’s bleeding._

_“He’s already lost a lot of blood,” she said._

_“But he’s stable?” said Navigator. Lady Plasma made a so-so gesture. “Remus, take him,” he said. “We’ll move. If we stay here too long, they’ll surround us in number.”_

_They moved, going a few blocks before they went into an abandoned residence._

_***_

“Okay,” said Su, letting out a relieved breath. “That was more intense than I thought.”

“They can make more monsters?” said Abe. “How?”

I only shrugged.

“Okay, okay, what do we know?” said Cindy.

“How did you know the roar would work?” Ned asked.

Su shrugged. “They looked wary. They have a sense of self-preservation and I was using meta-knowledge. Taylor cut me off when I had a thought. What if these monsters are the people of this town?”

“Oh, fuck me,” said Peter. “Is it?”

Cindy muttered an oath under her breath. “Pretend this is real-life,” I heard her mutter under her breath. “That changes things.”

“It fills in details,” Peter said. “He was using the people as fodder, _warping_ them into these things.”

“So the two that we killed?” said Su.

“It was trying to kill us,” said Abe. “Self-defence.”

“They’ll still be trying to kill us,” said Peter. “Or will they? We haven’t exactly tried talking to them.”

“Can they talk?” Cindy asked. She looked at me. I only shrugged. “We should try to talk to them.”

“But prepare for the worst,” said Peter. “I…don’t want to die. And I was already hurt.”

“Preparations and then we see about talking to them,” said Ned.

Nods were shared.

***

_“Should I be in the air?” Null asked. He was still weak, too much movement and his body likely wouldn’t take it too well._

_“No,” said Navigator. “Stay close to Remus so he can protect you. Flash Grenade, I want you to lead the talking. I think of all of us you’re the one with the highest EQ.”_

_“EQ? Am I supposed to know that?”_

_“Emotional Quotient. Like an IQ but being able to get people in a way we might not be able to,” said Null._

_“And you’re hard to hurt because you can just break if they choose to attack.”_

_Flash Grenade gave a nod. Navigator took a breath and then nodded. He’d been looking at creatures at the periphery of his range, the lines moving but none too close in their direction. Remus roared and the lines all changed, headed in their direction._

_The party had stationed themselves in a house, Navigator keeping an eye out on the lines while Flash Grenade stood just outside the door, looking at the creatures as they appeared. Most were fliers, small with leathery wings, large goitres visible and almost glowing, but others were the monkey-like creatures with claws. Twelve in all, on building tops, all chattering._

_“I want to talk!” Flash Grenade shouted above the rain. “Open communications.”_

_The creatures chattered, a loud sound, that of a flock of birds about to swarm._

_“Please,” she said. There was an answering storm of chittering and then one of the fliers took off. The others were quiet, only watching Flash Grenade. While more lines were moving in their location._

_“This could be a trap,” said Null. “If these guys are people, then they might have some master effect on them. Maybe they can’t even control themselves, driven by the need of their creator in the middle of all of this.”_

_“That could be true,” said Lady Plasma. “Cost-benefit analysis.”_

_“Are you guys talking?” said Flash Grenade. “You guys are talking. I’ll come over.” She went over without incident. “If we play this wrong, then they don’t trust us. We don’t get to try and speak to them without mistrust.”_

_“Or we could just capture one of them and talk to it,” said Remus. “I don’t like us putting ourselves in this much danger._ One _of those things nearly killed Null. Now we’re surrounded by a dozen with more on the way…” He shook his head. “I don’t like the risk.”_

_“I agree with Remus,” said Lady Plasma. “Especially since we don’t really know this guy’s power. It could be he warps their minds. Making protecting him their number one priority.”_

_Flash Grenade let out a breath. “We’ll pay for this, I’m sure about it,” she said. “How do we leave? We’re still surrounded, right?”_

_Navigator nodded. “They’re on the rooftops, none of them on this building though,” he looked to Null._

_“Um…” Null scratched his head. “This was bad planning. We didn’t really think about a retreat plan.”_

_“We weren’t really given much time to plan,” said Flash Grenade, a fist shaken in ire towards the gods. “Null, do you have any ideas what these things might do?”_

_Null shook his head. “But they didn’t look like they could take a punch,” he said. “They are fliers and we don’t know if its powers or they’re bird-like in how they do it.”_

_“I’m not loving the whole goitre thing too,” said Lady Plasma. “Worst case scenario, they’re a strafing force. Maybe shooting out a projectile?”_

_“They’ll be horrible to deal with,” said Null, “then there are those monkey things. They’re a ground force. If these things are smart, they’ll coordinate.”_

_“Forces stacked against us,” said Flash Grenade and she sighed. “Maybe we should go back to talking.”_

_“Or we could try something else,” Lady Plasma said._

_***_

“I might have cheated,” said Cindy. “But I _swear_ I wasn’t planning to.”

“I’m listening.”

She took a breath and slowly let it out. “Su’s power. She’s made of light and she can throw it into shields. It flickers out after three seconds it’s outside of her. It can take any force but flickers out after three seconds.”

Peter was grinning. “Oh, _yes,”_ he said. “Yes. Yes.”

I let out a groan.

“What? What just happened?” Ned asked.

“I’m invincible!” said Su.

***

 _“I’m_ totally _doing this,” said Flash Grenade and she rushed outside. The fliers were on alert and they took off into the sky, the closest inflating their goitres and spitting out a glowing liquid that flew towards Flash Grenade._

 _She_ broke _breaking into mass of light as the liquid hit her. It had no effect._

_More creatures flew around her, spitting in an effort to hit her. The monkey-creatures were moving, keeping behind fences in an effort to hide from the team._

_Navigator levelled his gun and shot. The creature saw the blast and moved out of the way. The blast caught it, but not enough for the creature to care. Instead it made a chattering sound that had the others flying away from the windows of the house with Null and the team._

_“The three monkey things are close,” said Navigator. He turned, pointing towards the kitchen. There was a crash, then the sound of scampering. Remus moved forward, taking a sofa and as the first creature darted out of the kitchen towards them, Remus threw. The sofa hit, crashing into the thing and smashing it into a pulp._

_“Others heard and they’re changing directions,” he said. “Coming at odd angles. There and there.”_

_Lady Plasma overcharged her gun and shot. There was a thump and a massive hole tore into the wall, but she missed her mark. The creature scampered into the room and charged at Navigator. He dodged but the creature was too fast, too agile. It scraped him at the side, blood flowing. He landed in a roll, coming to his feet as Null flew at the creature, only to fly past as the creature dodged._

_All of them had been looking at the creature in their midst that they missed the form that lunged from behind. It hit Remus square in the back, claws digging in. The large man fell back, tearing a massive hole in the ground as he output too much energy. All of them fell and flew back up as Null landed, only to crash into the ground again._

_Remus had felled his creature, but there was still one more in their midst._

_Lady Plasma materialised her box of first-aid supplies and threw it at the creature only to miss. Null tried again to grab at the creature, but it dodged once more, coming closer to Lady Plasma. She jumped onto it and it scampered out of the way, jumping and lunging scratching at her face. It hit the eye of the mask, causing a spark to erupt and the feed from the eye holes to disappear. She was now effectively blind._

_Remus raked his claws where the creature had been. Navigator pulled free a knife and landed in the same instance. His mark was true and the creature was felled._

_“Fuck!” said Null. “Really? Really?”_

_“We have to get out of here,” said Navigator._

_“On my back,” said Remus. Navigator and Lady Plasma did as told, holding on as Remus leaped into the air and scrambled onto the first floor. Null flew after them, Remus absorbing the effect as Null landed._

_“Let’s try this again,” said Navigator._

_“No, wait. I can do a wide spray,” said Lady Plasma. “Give me a few minutes.”_

_The moment Lady Plasma said this, one of the creatures chattered. All of them flew away, perching on building tops and hiding from the team._

_“They’re still there,” said Navigator. “Hiding, but there.”_

_“They’ll most likely follow after us,” said Null. He sighed._

***

“I really hate Ellisburg,” Peter muttered.


	16. Chapter 16

**Terrific Trio**

**Interlude**

“…inflated, growing three times the size in seconds,” Taylor said, the words impassioned. She’d gotten in a rhythm, had been in a rhythm since all of this had started. Ned could believe it, that she often did this in her head in the way she made transition effortless.

“I move forward and throw a shield!” Su said as she rolled. Five.

“The movement is too slow,” Taylor continued, only having glanced at the die. “And it’s quickly abandoned as Flash Grenade threw one of her five remaining shields. The thing flew faster than Flash Grenade was moving, hurtling past Remus who was at the forefront of the group. The liquid was already close as the concentric circles stopped and erupted into their full size. The liquid hit and surged, moving and rising over the still growing shield, spilling over and hitting Remus.”

“No!” Abe shouted. “I scrambled back! I scramble back!”

“In pain he moved back, writhing in pain and trying to shake off the gooey liquid eating at his skin. He roared in pain, screaming, but it wasn’t helping. He was in pain.”

Abe scowled and Su chuckled.

“Biological agent,” Cindy. “It’s a biological agent, which means it’s most likely bile. A strong base. We need a strong acid to neutralise it”

“Where are we even going to find an acid, in the middle of a fight?” Su said.

“No talking,” Taylor said. “You’re broken. Can’t make sound.”

Su crossed her arms, scowling towards Taylor, who was without expression as she looked over all of them. Ned was…flustered, because he was sure he’d been caught staring a few times and, though he’d told himself he’d stop, he just couldn’t. He hadn’t talked about it with Peter, but he was sure this was how he felt about Liz.

Stomach doing twists, his mind fixated on impressing her.

Gotta be smart. Gotta be smart. Gotta be smart.

But how?

“The shield flickers out,” Taylor said, “and the creature is closer, inflating it stomach for another shot.”

“I’m charged,” Su said. “I—”

“Shoot at its feet!” Ned said and Su nodded, she started to roll but Taylor interrupted the motion.

“Lady Plasma shot, a large spray that hit the monster’s footing. It was too large, too ungainly and it fell to one side, hitting the ground hard enough that it unintentionally shot the spray of goop. Missing its mark.”

Did that mean something? That she’d ignored the roll? Did she feel the same way and was trying to give him a sign?

“I fly at it,” said Peter. “To punch it.”

Four.

“Null took off, fists held out in front of him. He got the monster, his fist touching its bulk. He immediately stopped and his power took effect. The creature was thrown back and away from the party.”

“Four shouldn’t have been able to do that,” Cindy said.

“Don’t over think it,” said Su. “We’re losing and we need this.”

“Ingenuity bonus,” Taylor said absently. Which was likely why she’d ignored Cindy’s roll. It was less about him and more about his idea. “Remus still writhes, more of his flesh coming apart under the effect. He’s _really_ in pain.”

“I take off,” said Peter, “moving as fast as I can. I do the land-fly thing.”

“You’ll kill us,” said Cindy.

“Maybe,” said Peter. “Worth the risk. I am not ending the campaign because I lost to this damn place again.”

“Null flew into the air, moving quickly and then descending. He landed and his power stretched out, but before it could send everyone up, Null flew and the others were pulled after him.”

“Taking over,” said Peter and Taylor shrugged, grabbing at a bottle of water and starting to down it. They’d been doing this close to four hours, with only minimal rest. “I fly into the sky, hoping that the rain is washing away some of the goop. But I scan the sky, remembering the map of the town until I spot it, the lake…”

He looked towards Taylor.

“Yes, but it’s protected,” she said. “There’s a monster in the depths.”

“Of course there is,” Su muttered.

“Of course, of course there is,” said Cindy. “Water is an essential of life. It would be protected, if our man hasn’t built something to cart the water to his base.”

“I fly towards it, still pulling my team. ‘Flash Grenade make two shields. One as far as you can under the water, another just over the water’s surface!’ Null shouts.”

“I do that,” said Su.

“You aren’t being attacked, so it goes off without incident,” Taylor said. There was that sheen in her yes, a glint of excitement, of pride. Ned had seen it throughout the campaign, sometimes directed at him. It made his stomach twist because it was pride of a sort.

 _Stop being creepy_ , he thought to himself. But he could feel that the thoughts didn’t hold much weight.

“The second shield flickers to life,” Peter said, “and Null pushed himself faster. He spun and then landed on the shield. Null’s power flickers into life,” said Peter. He stopped, “and this is where we have to discuss how my power really works.”

“You mean this is where you hound me until it works the way you want it to work,” Taylor returned. She took a breath. “Okay, lay it on me. What do you want to happen?”

“No,” said Peter. “If I play this wrong, you’re going to penalise me. I’ve got a question. When I flew faster, did my team match my speed?”

Taylor shook her head. “No. You team’s been keeping the same speed they took off with, just following your path. When you slowed down, they caught up to you.”

“So, if they were headed towards the ground, they would hit it at the same speed they took off with?”

Taylor nodded. “If they’re trailing you,” she said. “But if you let them go and gravity takes effect, the limit is terminal velocity.”

“Then this will work. If I landed, they’ll get the new momentum upward momentum.”

“Wouldn’t we be squished?” said Su.

Taylor scowled. “You’re playing chess, brother?” she said, voice regal, like a king or queen. But there was a jokey quality to it, even if it was very, very dry.

“Why yes,” Peter said, putting on the same voice, smug, pompous and with a smirk to match. “Yes I am. Now you’re faced with the choice, he said. Get us out of this bind or give me an instant win button.”

Ned looked glance at everyone and they were all watching with avid expression. Su was slowly eating her jerky, chewing slowly as they stared at the eternal strife of sibling rivalry. For long moments there was only silence, before Taylor sighed.

“You win,” she said. “Null lands and his power spreads out. It hits his team and opposing forces momentarily fight before the upward force wins out, though slightly diminished. The team suddenly sails up before gravity takes hold and they fall into the water—”

“And this is where we stop for this weekend,” Peter said, swooping in.

“What?” said Abe. “I’m hurt. I should at least find out if I made it out okay.”

“No, no,” said Peter. “This is fine. We’ll find out next time. Not now. All of us are tired right now.”

“Yeah,” said Su, shooting a glance at Peter and then Taylor. “We should let things sort of ease until next time. No need to rush.”

Abe looked between the two before he shrugged.

“This was actually better than I thought it would be,” said Cindy as they started packing up, clearing the mess that had naturally formed from wrappers being balled and thrown. She was talking to Taylor. “You’re a good DM. Feels like there’s a story here with the clues.”

“There is,” said Taylor. “It’s easier because it’s just the story of one person and the effect they have on everything else around them.”

Ned grunted as Abe elbowed him at the side. “You’re staring,” he said.

“Not too loud,” Ned said. They were in the kitchen, Taylor, Cindy and Su in the kitchen. But Ned knew it wasn’t safe. There would be bugs in the walls and through those bugs Taylor would likely be listening into their conversation. “She could hear.”

“Crush?”

Ned didn’t say anything.

“Does Peter know?”

“No…or maybe yes, but…No,” he said. “Don’t tell him. It would make things awkward.”

Like it was already making things awkward because Taylor could hear all of this and she would react. Ned took a breath, slowly letting it out. Taylor must have dealt with this all the time, hearing conversation whether it was intentionally or unintentionally. How did she react? His mind moved back, remembering all the muttered words all the times he’d stared and how she hadn’t mentioned it even once.

Maybe it would just be like that? Something between them that stayed unspoken.

“You’ve got it bad, man,” said Abe, slapping him on the shoulder.

Ned only sighed, his thoughts going back to her and how he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel. She most likely knew and she hadn’t said anything. But then, what did she expect her to say?

“What’s with dopey look?” Peter said, wiping his hands on his pant leg.

“Towel?” said Abe. Peter only shrugged.

“I…uh…” Peter glanced away, looking towards the girls. “She’s awesome, isn’t she?”

“Huh?” said Ned, feeling heat rising up his neck to his face.

“Su,” said Peter. “It’s weird imagining Taylor having friends, but it’s even weirder when they have personality. I thought she was a major loner.”

“Your sister seems personable,” said Abe.

“She’s personable when she’d talking about powers,” said Peter. “This is her element.”

“Pretty good at her element,” Abe said and he gave a sad sigh. “Even if that goodness landed in me being possibly dead.”

Peter only shrugged. Possibly not saying anything because he would know for certain if Taylor was listening in or not.

The others started leaving. Abe and Cindy together, and then Su being picked up by her Dad.

“Taylor see you at school. Peter, I’ll text you.”

Peter waved.

“Text, huh? Is there a budding romance?” Taylor asked.

“No,” Peter said, too quickly. Which caused Taylor to grin. “Just…want to get the dirt on you at school.”

“Sure,” said Taylor. They got back into the apartment and sat on the couch, the three of them, watching television. Nothing was said for thirty minutes, which Ned found strange, and he didn’t say anything just waiting it out.

“Okay,” said Peter. “What are we doing next?”

Taylor sat up. “Finally,” she said. “Guns…”

888

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Heavier is the head that _wants_ to wear the crown.

Heaviest still when there are competing forces.

Fred took a breath and slowly let it out. He was hyper aware as he moved, taking in his surroundings and thinking about all the bugs hidden in the Grounds for Sculpture. A part of him knew it was a bluff, that the Swarm was propping himself up so he could seem a greater threat, but the fear was still there as he stood looking at _Forever Marilyn._

“It’s going to be moved, did you hear?” said Catherine. “It was supposed to have moved earlier this month with help from Pym Industries, but their reshuffling after the whole building, black hole thing pushed things back.”

Fred shook his head. “Not black hole,” he said. “I think it would have been a bigger incident if it had been a black hole. Especially one large enough to crush an entire building.”

Catherine shrugged. “You know these things better than I do,” she said. She took his arm, her head laying against his shoulders as they looked up. “You still haven’t told me what’s going on.”

The panic had momentarily disappeared in the distraction and now it was back. Fred found himself scanning, looking for bugs, wondering if it wasn’t the Swarm keeping watch. It was even worse when there were _no_ bugs around, because it could mean the Swarm was trying to hide that he was keeping watch. He swallowed, taking a breath and pushing it down. He’d come to New Jersey because of distance, if the Swarm hadn’t been lying about tracking every bug in New York, then this would help, being so far away.

“That bad?” Catherine said.

 _Lighter is the head that shares the load,_ he thought as he nodded.

“My ploy failed,” he said. It was against his policy to plan out loud, especially with the growing rise in Inhumans both good and bad. It wasn’t out of the question that many more had abilities that made for good spies. “It earned the Swarm’s ire above and beyond the enemies I already have. It shouldn’t be too long before the Vulture retaliates and that’s above what Madame Gao might do now that she has some breathing room.”

“I thought she was distracted with everything in Hell’s Kitchen.”

Fred shook his head. “Things have been clearing up,” he said and he sighed. “It’s being kept quiet, but the Punisher struck again last night. He took out a gang that was dealing heroin. Gao’s competition and the only reason she hasn’t come after us as a show of force.”

“You don’t trust the Bloch brothers?” Catherine said. She smiled a little. “What is it they call themselves.”

“The Oxen,” Fred said and he shook his head. “They’re thinking about mask. Or at least Ronald is. I think he’s setting ground for when he wants to leave this. He didn’t want to join in the first place. He was only ever in it for the money.”

“Smart boy,” said Catherine. She sighed. “This why you want to leave Queens? Because the Swarm’s ‘ire’?”

“More that he visited me at home two nights ago,” said Fred. Catherine tensed. “I don’t know if he knows about the full lengths of the plan, but I think it might be because my men almost succeeded in shooting Spider Man. The Swarm is protective and willing to kill if anyone kills his teammate.”

“He does know what this is, right?” said Catherine. “Being hurt, _dying,_ it comes with the territory.”

Fred gave her a look. “Would you accept that if it was the kids?”

“I wouldn’t let them get involved,” Catherine said, quick and curt.

Fred shook his head. “You’re refusing to answer the question by moving the goalpost. That isn’t going to get us anywhere in understanding the Swarm. Whether or not they’re bluffing.”

Catherine sighed. “Okay, fine,” she said. “In a world where the kids were part of all this, then I wouldn’t accept it. I’d try to change things. I don’t know the lengths I’d go to, but it would be pretty far, using any resources I have.”

“Hence,” said Fred and he sighed, “the reason moving and leaving all of this behind might be a good idea. If we want to carve out a piece of this city for ourselves, we can’t be handicapped like that and the deck is already stacked against us.”

“Does this restriction only apply to you?”

“No, but the minor players and I are the ones who’ll be most affected,” he said. “Inhumans are popping up every day, if not them, then people with or who can make, extraordinary technology. These all can be bought. But the minor players can’t buy them. It’s a brilliant thing to do if you want to stamp out minor players from trying to take control of the vacuum that’s opened up since Wilson Fisk became less of a player.”

“The Swarm sounds smart,’” said Catherine. “This should excite you.”

“The powers make it unfair,” he said. “It takes away from the intellect of it. It becomes about the person with the strongest power. They can always use force if they’re being beaten.”

Like it had happened now. Instead of duking things out on the battleground the Swarm had attacked him at home.

“It’s only a matter of time before Feudalism returns.”

“Hasn’t it with the Avengers?” Fred said. “They go anywhere they want without talking to any other country’s government. No one is doing anything because _what_ can they do? These are the people that single-handedly stopped an invasion, who stopped a thing that had the power to raise cities into the sky.”

“There’s power in the unknown,” said Catherine, her tone light. _“You_ taught me that. I’m sure there was a lot going on behind the scenes that the Avengers didn’t tell the public about because it would make them look all that impressive.”

“You’re most likely right,” he said.

“I _am_ your better half,” she said, smiling. It was infectious, making him forget everything as they settled into a walk. It was Sunday, people should have been about, but the air was nipping, uninviting, offering a little solitude. She sighed. “Do you have a plan moving forward?”

“Chaos,” he said. “If we’re lucky we’ll be there to clean things up, but it’ll mean making more enemies.”

“Is there a chance the kids might be in danger?”

“I don’t really know,” said Fred. “But I don’t think so. They aren’t Inhumans and there’s no chance they’re secretly the Swarm or Spider-Man.”

Catherine snorted. “I still can’t believe you thought that. Our kids are lazy lugs. I don’t see them having the initiative to be pains in the ass…of _that_ sort at least.”

Fred shrugged. “It would have been poetic. Father and mother are villains, son and daughter are heroes.”

Catherine shook her head. “I don’t think that’s how the real-world works,” she said. “And anyway, I don’t like that descriptor. We aren’t villains.”

“We’re criminals, then,” said Fred. He gave Catherine a look and she didn’t look happy. “We are committing crimes. Hypocrisy doesn’t help us, it instead fosters bad behaviour, it makes it easier for us to lie to ourselves and that might make us stupid at key moments.”

“I both love and hate how logical you can be,” she said.

“What about here and now?”

“Both?” she said. “It’s edging towards hate, but that’s because I don’t want to think of myself as a criminal.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’re not actually committing or helping in the committing of crimes,” said Fred. “You’re just helping your husband by giving him a sounding board.”

“No,” she said. “I think I’m a criminal. I’m like those mob wives.”

“I’m not a mob boss,” he said.

“Only a matter of time,” she said. “So this plan of yours?”

“Two fronts, really,” he said. “Things our computer guy has been reading about. Inhumans who haven’t been savvy enough to train first are being disappeared by a government agency: The Advanced Threat Containment Unit.”

“Government agency? They could like what Spider Man’s doing and just help him,” said Catherine.

“I trust that Hydra likely has a hand in things,” he said. “I could be wrong, but…Captain America destroys three ships and Black Widow posts their stuff online. It’s not actual work in _investigating_ the people in their departments, which means it’s likely people will be missed.”

“You’re putting faith in that?”

Fred shook his head. “It’s why the second group is so important. The Watchdogs. A paramilitary group that, as Adrien would say, has a ‘hate boner’ for Inhumans. Where the ATCU is, you’ll find the Watchdogs and vice versa.”

“So the ATCU will serve as the controlling element? Making sure that the Watchdogs don’t cause too much damage?”

Fred nodded.

“Do you think you could get them here?” she asked.

“I’m surprised they haven’t come on their own. Doing anything under the noses of the Avengers means people take you seriously pretty quickly. It’s why what Wilson Fisk was trying to do was so ballsy, why everyone was watching, and ultimately why it was disappointed when it was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that took him down.”

“Greater incentive for the Watchdogs to come,” said Catherine. “But what if the Swarm connects this to us?”

Fred took a large breath and slowly let it out. “That’s the risk,” he said. “I can get my computer guy on it before he decides to leave us. But…there’s always the risk that the Swarm has his own computer guy.”

“Then tell this to your computer guy and stop stressing so much.”

“I stress, that’s my thing,” he said. He took another breath and let it out. “Money’s running out. Weed is getting more and more mainstream which means the cash from it is getting less and less, not to mention the Jamaicans have better grade. I could steal from them, but then my enemies might ally against me so that I will stop pouching from them. They’re enemies I don’t need right now.”

“We’ve got our savings,” she said. “We could lay low.”

“I’m sorry about this,” he said.

“We planned for it,” she said. “There are good days and bad days. This is one of those.”

“I love you,” he said and he gave her a kiss.


	17. Chapter 17

**Terrifying Trio**

**3.1**

“Okay,” said Peter. “Switch it on.”

We were at what was starting to become our base. Peter and Ned had made a bare bones contraption that looked too ugly to be tinker tech _._ They’d rigged up their build on a jacket worn by a mannequin. The glowing purple battery sat at the back of the pack, connected by wires to what must have been processors and then spreading out to the throngs from the gun, which were set at the lower ribs and at neck of the jacket.

An ant moved the switch and their machine came to life. The throngs spat out an effect much like the Aurora Borealis save it was blue. The light was bright with a shimmery aspect to it as it covered the mannequin. But nothing happened beyond that.

Peter grinned. Ned clapped.

“Was it supposed to do that?” I asked.

They’d been doing this over the past three days, a project that had started dipping into Peter’s patrolling. I could have been paying better attention, but my focus had been on revenue, how I was going to pay for all this. I had to balance out the money riskier missions would catch us and the amount of danger I was willing to put Peter through. Which was tough to think about.

“Output calibrations have been off,” said Ned, as if that explained anything.

“You have _no_ idea how many mannequins we’ve been going through,” Peter added. “That,” he said, pointing, _“thing_ is the best battery I’ve ever seen. Beyond anything that’s on the market. But it’s got _too_ much power and the kick has been enough to send the mannequins sailing.”

“That’s because it’s alien,” said Ned. I gave him a look. He sat at his computer. When I got there, he had a picture open: A Chitauri gun, with the same battery that we were looking at now. “Chitauri.”

I frowned. “I thought that Stark company cleared out all of that.”

Ned shook his head. “There was _a_ lot damage by those things,” he said and shrugged. “Doesn’t surprise me that some people snatched it. A lot of people have been trying to sell it on the dark web.”

I felt my stomach twist, but I held my tongue. I had to trust that he was taking precautions, that he was doing things safely. I really didn’t like that I wasn’t computer literate and I could enforce safeguards, but this was the reality. I took a breath and slowly let it out, noticing that Ned’s eyes hadn’t left me.

“You’re thinking the Vulture?” I asked.

He eased a little. “SHIELD,” he said. “When it was still a thing. One guy, and this might be a lie so...” He shrugged. “He said he was meeting with a buyer when these agents intercepted. The guys were with SHIELD and they said they’d let him go with a warning if he pointed them to other people with alien technology.”

“And SHIELD fell apart,” I said and I sighed. “There’s just too much corruption since the whole Hydra thing and it feels like it’s all blending into each other.”

Ned shook his head, confusion written on his features.

“In an incident of major corruption, the smartest thing to do is investigate _everyone,_ ” I said. “People in high enough positions are unlikely to worry about this because they’ll have set up countermeasures, or they’ll just be secure in their position. It’s the people at the bottom that will have to worry.”

“So…you’re thinking they’re banding together?” he said.

“Or maybe all of this is connected by one large group and since their operations are done, they’re trying to do something smaller?” I said. “It’s…I don’t know, a messy picture.”

“And you want to figure it out?” said Ned. I shrugged. “You know you don’t have to, right? Figure it out?”

“I know,” I said and I sighed. “Just…force of habit to try and figure things out. Settle them if they need settling.”

“But you don’t feel like that’s too big?” he said. “I mean, the Avengers can do all that.” I couldn’t hold back my snort. “You don’t think they do?”

“I think the Avengers only tackle surface offences,” I said and I shrugged. “They do the flash and leave everyone to deal with everything else. But then, they’re essentially a private organisation and with what I understand of governments they don’t like working with the private sector unless they can control them. It leaves things messy, leaves the government unprepared for what’s to come and the Avengers unable to help with the aftermath without first needing to go through Congress or whatever.”

“If you had the power to fix everything what would you do?” he asked.

“My solution would be just as messy,” I said. “Make laws in quick order, governing how the Avengers or groups like the Avengers would work. Provide a framework by which people with powers should work.”

“Isn’t that just giving too much power to vigilantes?”

“It is,” I said. “But it’s better with laws than without. I feel like…it would draw lines for the better. Make distinctions between what Peter’s doing and what the Punisher’s doing. Like this, as things stand, they’re lumped together which doesn’t seem right.”

“You think maybe you’re biased,” he said nervously.

“A _lot_ biased _,”_ I said with a small smile. I glanced at Peter and how focused he was, looking over wires and touching them with a pen connected by wire to a box. Ned and Peter had told me its name, but I’d forgotten it. All I knew was that it measured an electric current or voltage.

“Going back to the government and the Avengers being apart,” he said. “How would your framework help them?”

“It would create speaking ground. The Avengers know what they can and can’t do and how to go about it. During their threat analysis, they speak to the person assigned to be the go-between. That person tells the government and they have time to prepare for their own worst-case scenario projection.”

“What about all the work the Avengers do internationally?” Ned asked.

“And that’s where we run into problems,” I said. “I don’t think there exists a neat solution to all of this. Heck, there’s likely a lot of glaring issues that I’m missing.”

“Yeah,” said Ned. He took a breath. “We sort of got distracted.”

I shrugged. “Tends to happen,” I said. “At least this is better than Peter’s non-sequitur. They’re aren’t as mentally engaging.”

Ned grinned.

“I hear everything you’re saying,” Peter said, loudly, “and I don’t appreciate it.”

“Teaches you not to eavesdrop,” I said.

Peter snorted. “Hypocrite!”

“I _am_ a hypocrite,” I said. “I can freely admit that.”

Peter stepped back from the jacket. “Can you flick it on again?”

I did and the effect took hold. He took a rock and threw it, when it hit into the effect, the mannequin was pushed back as though the stone had been much larger. Peter moved and threw another rock from another angle, the throw lighter. The mannequin started drifting at an angle.

“Off,” he said. I did and the mannequin fell. He moved on over to it, picked it up and checked things over. Still measuring voltage, feeling out the stone and jostling the stone casing to see how it moved. “We’re going to have to put on a protective casing. A stronger one,” he murmured, more to himself than us.

“How are things on your end?” said Ned. “With the whole cracking down on the gun trade?”

“Spying on police mostly,” I said. “I’ve been keeping an eye on Freddie and his people, but I think they might have finally run out of money. There’s been meetings, but they’ve been the grunts talking about banding together than any real direction.”

“He _has_ been talking about their capital a lot,” said Ned, “or at least that’s what Peter’s told me. At least that’s a point for us, right?”

“She’s going to pessimist it up,” Peter said, not looking in our direction. I scowl in his direction. “Scowling doesn’t change anything,” he said, still not looking up. “You still want to say something. If only to teach us a lesson.”

“I really don’t like you sometimes,” I said.

“Love you too,” he said.

“It’s only good until the major players decide to fill the vacuum,” I said.

“Ha!” Peter barked.

“Peter, I swear I’ll put lice on you again.”

“You know they’ve lost when they resort to brute force,” he said.

I took a breath and slowly let it out, ignoring him. “You know,” I said. “I have your costume and I could hold it for ransom.”

He looked up. “What? It’s done?”

“Part of me wants to say no because you were mouthy,” I said.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “You wouldn’t do that to your little brother, would you?”

“I thought you were older?” said Ned.

“He’s trying to manipulate me. But I know your charms Peter Parker, and they’re not going to work on me,” I told him. He pouted and the game was lost. _“Fine,”_ I said.

I walked over to my bag and started pulling the costume out. Peter almost pushed me out of the way to get it, which I didn’t appreciate, but I imagined doing the same thing when he got the quasi-jet pack complete.

It was the red and blue he’d wanted, with dark lines akin to webs dominating the costume. He hadn’t mentioned anything about padding, but I’d given him that around the shoulders and knees, most of which were for show because the thing was decked in armour panels made of bugs shells, dyed to so they weren’t the dark colours that had made up Skitter’s costume.

“I couldn’t integrate technology into it,” I said, swallowing. “With the goggles of yours, but with more money and us working together on the next incarnation of the costume it’ll get better.”

“This is _awesome,_ ” he said, with a massive grin. “Can you give me some cover?” He said and he didn’t even wait before starting to take off his shirt.

“Wait,” I said. I pulled out two long-johns. One I’d made out of silk and the other was made of wool, relatively thin and _expensive._ “Layering for the cold. Silk isn’t the best insulator, so this’ll help until summer comes in. There’s a shirt in there too.”

“You know that I haveto go out now, don’t you?” he said. “Have people get used to me in my digs. You guys don’t mind if I leave you, right?”

“We were meeting with Mr Drumm today,” said Ned.

“I can take you,” I said. “I want to get some solo hero stuff done today anyway.”

“Anything in particular?” asked Peter.

“Scare a guy that sells guns out of his trunk,” I said. “Stuff that shouldn’t be connected to Spider-Man.”

“You aren’t going hurthim, are you?” Peter said, sobering.

I shook my head. “There’s something about a mass of bugs terrorising a person by sheer presence,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll have to do anything. Rewards have been shown to work better than punishment when it comes to training.”

“Isn’t that dogs?” asked Ned.

“It’s most animals,” I said. “The more complex the animal, the harder it is because they’ll be craftier, able to see what you’re trying to do. But there’ll be fear, which makes people regress back to their animal nature. I think this might work.”

Peter took a large breath and shook his head. “There’s just so much wrong there that I don’t even know _where_ to start unpacking it. Instead I’ll ignore it for now because I want to get the feel of this new guy.”

We started packing up. Peter taking apart the flight pack while cataloguing the pieces. He and Ned discussed a few things which I didn’t pay much attention to because I was focusing on the maps I’d drawn out over the past three days. I had five people that sold stock out of the back of their trunks, but only two of them seemed like they would have anything I could use. Those guys were only the surface level plan, though, because another part of me wanted to push faster for us to start working together with the police. It would be so much easier if I could be giveninformation than what we were doing right now.

But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like there was morethat was needed on our end. We needed to help more before that trust. When I tried to gauge where I’d draw the line, _where_ I’d feel like we’d done enough that we could open communications. I couldn’t find a clear answer.

Maybe I just didn’t want to open communications in the first place?

“Peter.” He looked up. He and Ned were almost done their packing up. “When you’re done patrolling call me. Ned do you think you can sneak out tonight?”

“Yeah, why?”

“We’re going to open communication with the police,” I told them. “People that deal in guns are much harder to pin down than with drugs. The entire thing is more complicated because there’ll no doubt be undercover cops there too. We’ll need to make sure that we don’t step on toes.”

Peter nodded, smiling. “I’m surprised you didn’t think about just stealing information from them in the first place,” he said, lightly chuckling.

I blushed. “Yeah.”

Peter sighed, shaking his head. “And _this_ is my sister, Ned. Because I’m sure she was already thinking about doing that.” I didn’t say anything. Ned snickered. “Love you, though.”

“Same here, baby bro.”

He scowled.

***

“So…you don’t like the police?” Ned asked as we walked, chowing down hot dogs.

“I’m ambivalent,” I said. “Why?”

“I’m…just still trying to figure out you and Peter,” he said. “Figuring out where I fit into it. Mom says that when you’re starting at a new job, it’s important that you do that. She says she’s seen too many people just ‘foist’themselves into groups and it usually doesn’t work out. It’s sometimes better to observe first, let the resistance ease and let yourself be invited in.”

“Isn’t,” I took a bite, chewing and swallowing. “Isn’t it counterintuitive to tell me all of this?”

He shrugged. “It seemed like the thing you’d appreciate,” he said and he shrugged again.

“It is,” I told him. “I like it and I think you’re doing a good job.”

“Yeah?” he said, smiling.

I nodded. “Yeah. Of course we haven’t had a bad day, yet, still in the honeymoon phase. But you’re fitting in well. You’re…” I stopped, thinking and then took a breath. “Don’t know how to say it.”

“You could describe it,” he offered.

“Okay,” I said. “Context: I’ve been told that I have a forceful personality, this combined with a need to control things.”

I saw realisation in his eyes and I quirked a brow. “So, the police thing isn’t about you not liking police. It’s about giving away the control?” he said.

“Exactly that,” I said. “You’re…really perceptive.”

“It’s creepy, I know,” he said. “But…” He shook his head. “It’s just justification. It’s not important.”

“It’s important. It’s how you think. I’d like to know how you think if we’re going to be in a team together. I know how Peter thinks and that helps me when I do things. I have to ask myself, how would Peter see this, would he agree or disagree, is it worth still doing even if he’d disagree. I want to fit you into that model since you’re a part of the team.”

He smiled. “Well, it’s…hacking. It’s all about patterns. Most people think I’m on my computer clicking furiously or something, but it’s about people. I see how they act, the patterns, and I use them to get what I want. Like, this is a hypothetical.”

I shook my head. “That’s never convincing,” I said. “But go on.”

“Like, if you want to get at a person’s security information, you call them. You make a call because there’s this growing thing in society today that makes us not like calls. It’s the obligation of talking to another person, a stranger; the need to keep to social graces even if it’s not the best time and you’re really not up to it. So you call and you sound confident, you don’t give the person any time to speak because they might ask questions, but you continue to talk about the gravity of the situation.”

“Can you give me an example,” I said. “If you were to make a call.”

“Really?” I shrugged. “Okay…Um. Hello, Mrs Castillo? This is Adam Dunning from Excella Corp. We’ve recently found an attempted log-in in the town of Abridge in Texas. Were you in that area? No? We’d like for you to change your password, but before we do, we’d like to ask you some security questions to ensure your number hasn’t been changed: What’s your maiden name? What was the name of your first pet? Your cousin’s name? The colour of your eyes?”

“The colour of her eyes?” I said. “What relevance would that serve?”

“You’re flooding them with information,” he said. “Forcing their minds to think in different directions so that they don’t focus on the niggling suspicion that this isn’t right.”

“Has this ever worked?”

 _“Hypothetical,”_ he said. I only hummed.

“We’re here,” I said. “You’ll make it home okay?”

“Peter said Mr Drumm could make portals and he’d help me back,” he said.

“Okay. This was good. I’ll see you when we drop over.”

“Bye, Taylor,” he said.


	18. Chapter 18

**Terrifying Trio**

**3.2**

Bugs shifted in the darkness.

A mass buzzing and clicking.

The man, Andrew Hahn, reacted; his first impulse was slamming the trunk of his car closed while moving for his sidearm. He reached it, tried to pull it out of its holster and failed. He found silk wound around it. He hissed and tried to run. He tripped, lucky that flailing arms caught him from hitting the ground face first.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He pulled himself to his feet, the panic starting to set in as he scrambled for the door. The bugs behind him started to take form, an amorphous shape slowly moving towards him.

The door wasn’t locked and he pulled it opened with force. Silk stretched taut and pulled back, slamming the door shut. Andrew looked back. The bugs were starting to take more human shape, and it seemed to terrify him even more. He tried to run again, forgetting the silk binding his legs and he pitched forward again, a grunt leaving him as he hit the ground.

“Andrew Hahn,” the form said as it surged forward. He screamed, scrambling back with vigour. It wasn’t effective. The bugs, now humanoid, flew close, landed on the ground and stood there. “Stop trying to run.”

He stopped, still breathing hard.

“This can end one of two ways,” the Swarm said, the words slow, the crackling of the bugs rising and dipping. “Good or bad for you. Good ends with me getting what I want. Do you understand?”

He nodded slowly.

“Your weapons,” the Swarm said. “They’re a slightly higher grade than the usual trunk merchants. I want to know why?”

“I…I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to tell me your supplier.”

“I have deals with pawn shops to sell some of the shit they can’t sell without hassle,” he said, fervent. It was panicked, close together and I couldn’t parse whether it was the truth or a lie he’d practised over and over.

“What’s your cut?”

“About forty percent of the asking price,” he said. Still unthinking, which made it more likely that he was telling the truth. What I wouldn’t do to have Tattletale’s ability right now. But I couldn’t, so I had to make this work on my own.

“Okay. I’ll need a list of your suppliers.” Bugs had been moving through the weapons since the start, getting into crevices and killing each other, blocking up mechanisms and making sure that they would jam. “Make it quick.”

He stood slowly, visibly surprised when he found he could move without impeding himself. He was equally surprised when his door opened. He rummaged through, found a pen and paper and shakily wrote down notes. He handed them over to a cloud of bugs.

“You can’t leave yet.”

“Wh—Why?” Andrew asked.

“Verification,” the Swarm responded. “It shouldn’t take too long to get insight on these places, see if you’re telling the truth.”

If anything, Andrew looked even more terrified. He continued to stand looking towards the Swarm, while I had the bugs with the note move through my range carrying the piece of paper. He was a little calmer by the time the paper finally reached me. I read over the names, three in total and I searched for them online, only finding one that was posted on the Internet.

I called Peter.

 _“What’s up?”_ he said.

“I’m going to send you locations,” I said. “I want you to pop on over, give me the general impression that you have.”

_“What am I looking for?”_

“Nothing,” I said. “Just impressions.”

 _“Okay,”_ he said. _“Will do.”_

The next person I called was Ned. He didn’t pick up so I sent a text message asking him to see if he could find anything on the pawn shops. He was better at searching for things, which meant there might be a kernel of information I might be missing.

“Location,” I had the bugs say and Andrew replied. I sent Peter the text and we had another wait again. Fifteen minutes passed before Peter called.

 _“Okay,”_ he said. _“Two of the places are dumps. Small time. Filled with a lot of junk. The last is a big-time place, with a whole floor place. Even this late into the day and it’s still got people there. You’re thinking they might be selling guns?”_

I hummed. “I’ll scout the places,” I said, after our meeting with our dear detective. “Maybe it’s a good idea we do it beforehand? Have something tangible to give the cops.”

 _“You’re just pushing it off,”_ said Peter. _“Let’s do this tonight. Remember, stepping on toes.”_

“Right,” I said and I sighed, focusing back on Andrew.

“No one finds out about this,” I told him through the swarm. “I’ll know if you tell anyone. _Go.”_

He nodded, quickly getting to his feet and getting into his car. There were bugs in his car and I kept track of him as the swarm dispersed. He drove a little ways away and then stopped, pulling out his phone. I had a fly in the car come alive, buzzing around aimlessly. He looked in its direction and put his phone down. He let out a shaky breath.

I gave the mental command to have the lice on his head wake up before I started packing up and waited for Peter to come pick me up. The lice would be the paranoia I needed to stop him from making calls to his employers, giving us a bit of time as we compiled all our data for a take down.

He drove off again, still in my range and slowly edging away. He stopped at a point, walked slowly to his trunk, opened it and closed it before getting into his car and driving off again. He moved until he was out of my range.

I sat back, trying to conceptualise what was going on with the limited information I had at this point. A person, or maybe a group of people, using pawn shops as distribution chains for their guns and also through people on the streets. Diversifying how they went about their business, limiting the loss they could suffer if one of their operations was taken down.

How would we take them down, then? They could just lie and say that the guns were legally bought and were being legally sold. I pulled out my phone and started reading up on the laws around buying and selling pre-owned guns. I couldn’t parse most of it, but I knew that New York had a ban on assault rifles, sidearms needed a permit and only long arms could be freely bought. So I had to be on the lookout for assault rifles and I had to pay attention that sidearms still had serial numbers, which were in different places in different sidearms. I’d have to get smaller bugs, feel out the indentations on the guns for any excess smoothness.

My phone buzzed.

 _“Lacewing,”_ he Peter. _“I found the Daredevil. Thought we could take the detour.”_

***

“Well, well,” said the woman, an accent to her that was maybe English. “Aren’t they…adorable.” The words were condescending, which I didn’t like, especially since I hadn’t had time to prepare for this meeting, wasn’t sure what I wanted to get out of it.

But Peter had wanted it which was a large part of why I was here.

They were both in costume, though Daredevil’s was more put together than the woman’s, _Elektra’s._ His attention was directed at us but he gave me the sense that his focus was elsewhere. Maybe he had a thinker power was like Labyrinth’s, giving him trouble focusing. If he had powers.

“Bugs,” he said. “That’s the Swarm?”

“You’re a thinker?” said Peter. “Is that how you’ve been avoiding us?”

“I didn’t know who you were,” he said. “And you were chasing me when I was working on something. I couldn’t take the chance that this was all an act. Lulling me into a false sense of security.”

“And now you trust us?” I said.

“Enough to have this meeting,” he said. “I’m…realising, with the stakes, that working alone isn’t practical.”

“Stakes?” I asked.

Daredevil took a breath and let it out in a huff. “This…I don’t like doing this,” he said. “But it has to be asked. Are you really kids?” I felt my heart pick up, while Peter stood slightly taller. “Fu— _Damn,”_ he muttered. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

Not to us, but Elektra.

“And we very well might die,” she said with a shrug. “We’ve made our peace with it, but we haven’t made peace with what follows.”

“We’d be putting _them_ in danger,” he said. “Doing the same thing that Stick did to me, to _you.”_

“Can you stop,” I said, frustrating in my voice. “Stop talking about us like we’re not here?”

Daredevil looked to the side; his head tilted slightly down. I took a breath and slowly let it out. Had to consider this from their perspective: We were kids and whatever they were dealing with, they probably thought that we would be getting in over our heads. There’d be concern there, especially if they didn’t know us. My frustration wouldn’t help. But maybe there was another way to get at what he was doing.

“Swarm, you mind making an appearance,” I said. I had bugs move, flying into the rooftop and forming a humanoid shape.

“I’ve been listening,” said the Swarm. “I’m the adult you want.”

“That’s a lie,” said Daredevil. His head had tilted toward Peter. “You’re not an adult.”

Still didn’t know what his powers were, but more and more it felt like he was a thinker of some sort. Maybe with the power to tell lies? But I hadn’t been lying.

“I most likely am,” said the Swarm. “When I turned into this. My memo—”

“You keep lying,” Daredevil said. He shook his head. “This was a bad idea.”

“Okay, _okay,”_ said Peter. “It’s a lie. A con we’ve got going to cloak things for the bad guys. We’re not adults, all of us aren’t. But we’re skilled and we do good work. It sounds like you need people like us.”

“Our only other option is Jessica Jones or finding a way to talk to the Avengers,” said Elektra. “Worse yet, _Stick._ They’re kids, but…they’re right, they have talents we don’t have. They might actually help.”

“It’s too dangerous,” said Daredevil. “I—”

“I get it,” Elektra said. “Sorry, children. This isn’t going to work out.”

“Let’s go,” I said. I got onto Peter’s back and we swung away.

We stopped two blocks away and Peter immediately settled into a pace.

“They haven’t moved and they’re quiet,” I told him.

“They’re still listening,” said Daredevil. I gestured for Peter to keep quiet when he was about to talk. “There are still bugs and the Swarm is relaying information to Lacewing.”

“Not Spider-Man?” said Elektra. Daredevil shook his head. “So the Swarm is tied to Lacewing in some respect?”

“Maybe,” he said. “I’m just wondering how long they’ll keep listening before we can leave?”

Elektra snorted. “I do like that you’re irritated by their powers, _Daredevil_ ,” she said. “Gives you a sliver of the feeling we have when it comes to you.”

“Let’s go home,” I said. “Continue things on our end. Things are at a stalemate, here.”

Peter nodded and we took off.

I made sure we were back in Queens before we spoke and even then, I was still a little afraid of going back home. I still didn’t know what the guy’s thinker power was, but so far it seemed like it was linked to hearing at large distances and with enough control that he could when people were lying?

“Thinker, powerful one at that,” I said. There could be more. It could be that he could tag things and keep track of them, that he could be listening in on us even now. But he hadn’t touched us, which was how I was used to such powers working.

 _This is a different world,_ I thought. There were powers, yes, but they didn’t work the same way. They didn’t work by the same rules.

But it was a terrifying thought, even when I inflicted the same terror on others.

“Yep,” said Peter. “You know, powers are fun when they’re on our side, but when we have to fight against them, they’re a _bitch.”_

“You’re frustrated,” I said.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” he said. “I know we haven’t been doing this a long time, but they were so _condescending_ and it just… _Fuck.”_

His hands clenched into fists. He slowly uncurled them before pulling off his mask.

“Breathe,” I said, not liking his expression. “Slowly.”

Eyes closed and looking up, he took a breath, held it in and then slowly let it out.

“A part of me want to show him,” he said. “It wants to rub it in his smug face that we _aren’t_ just kids.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s ever going to work,” I said. “What he’s doing is less about our skill and more about an emotional reaction of kids in danger. He’s…if Aunt May found out we were doing this.”

Peter let out another sigh. “Do you think the Avengers will feel the same way?” he said.

My mind drew blank. “What?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s just…Y’know. I thought that maybe we’d be Avengers someday. A year, maybe two, and then we’ll be large enough that we can be inducted.”

“You’ll be sixteen, then,” I said with a shrug. “People are more willing to put sixteen-year olds in danger than fourteen-year olds.” It took a second. “Not a year or two, a few months?”

“Maybe? Yes?” he said. He shrugged. He closed his eyes, then had fingers digging into the corners of his eyes. “Your plan, it’s…it’s going to get us attention. We’re already being talked about online and we’re talking about doing things that are _big_. People will notice and that might bump us up to the Avenger’s radar. But…if the Daredevil, a small-time hero with one big bust, isn’t willing to work with us because of our age, what about _them?”_

“Peter,” I said and I sighed. “You can’t define your worth as a hero by becoming an Avenger.”

“I know that. But…even if my head knows something, my heart can feel differently,” he said. “Here it does. I feel like… _Fuck._ I’m supposed to be happy because I finally got my costume, instead _this_.”

“Do you want a hug?” I asked. He nodded. He let out a shaky breath as I hugged him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” I said. “I get it. Being underestimated sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want us to postpone the thing?”

Peter shook his head, pulling out of the hug. “I want to _do,”_ he said. “I _really_ want to rub it in his smug face.”

“Let’s start making calls,” I said and he gave me a nod.

***

“Detective Smith,” said the Swarm.

“Holy fuck,” the man said. He took a step back, stopping himself from going for his sidearm. “I thought it was hoax, you know. But…” He let out a chuckle. “Fuck. Is the other one here, Spider-Man?”

Peter jumped off the side of the wall and landed. He waved. “Hello, Detective Smith. It’s good to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too,” he said. “Do you mind if take a picture? The guys at the station won’t believe this.”

“Maybe after,” said the Swarm. Peter was standing straighter, his usual enthusiasm gone. Daredevil first and now the detective’s attitude. It couldn’t be helping how he was feeling. “Business first.”

“Right. Right,” he said. “What was this? Gotta admit, I just came for the novelty.”

“We want to work together,” said the Swarm. “The Police and us.”

“You understand that what you’re doing is illegal, right?” he said. “I should be arresting you right now, but…” He shrugged. “Don’t see that going well.”

“Arresting us wouldn’t be smart,” said Peter, his voice was harder, again devoid of his mirth. I didn’t like it. “Since the Inhuman thing started, we’re seeing more people with powers, more people that use those power to commit crimes. The Oxen are an example.”

“So what? You’re offering to be our muscle?” he said.

“In a matter of speaking, yes,” I said.

Detective Smith sighed. “I like the idea,” he said. “Trust me I do. But you’d have to go through official channels, join the force and become Officers. That would make things easier, make people less antsy and it would make it less likely that anything you got would be admissible.”

“Gao’s factory,” said the Swarm. “Was that admissible?”

“Right,” he said. “That was you.” He sighed. “There were people with assault rifles and they were arrested. There were people that were caught in spider webs and, though some were arrested for carrying sidearms without permits, so many more are likely to get off because they were part of a security firm.”

“What?” said Peter. “You know what they were trying to do, right?”

“What they were trying to do and what they _were_ doing are two completely different things,” he said. “We don’t have enough evidence showing what they were trying to do. The only clear charge is a fine for their company because we’re saying it hired people to carry concealed weapons when they didn’t have permits to carry them. The others will depend on either deals or what the DA argues. But…there’s reasonable suspicion there. Why you took them down. But, are any of you going to take the stand? If you can’t, then they can just spin this however without us being able to do much.”

 _“Fuck me,”_ Ned muttered. _“That was supposed to be your bust.”_

I didn’t say anything. More worryingly Peter didn’t say anything. He’d be thinking along the same lines. It was frustrating, but the law was what we had to work with even if it was frustrating at the best of times.

“But,” said the Swarm, “that was because we were two distinct entities working towards the same goal without talking to each other. It means there were mistakes. If we pooled resources, had a working relationship then things might be easier. Ours would be a role of gathering information, giving it to you to work with and then, if you’re going to step in, we help in case there might be Inhumans in the forces of the gangs.”

“Suppose you’ll want information in return,” he said.

“It would help,” he said. “Pointing us in certain directions to narrow what we’re going up against.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I…like it,” he said. “The idea of working with people like you. It appeals to the child in me who wanted to be a superhero…but the realist.” He shook his head. “Can I get some time to think about this? See how it might work, talk to some people?”

“Do what you think is best,” said the Swarm. “But be careful. There might be leaks in your department.”

He frowned and nodded. I had my bugs dispersed and Peter started slinging in our direction.

“Hey,” Detective Smith muttered. “The picture.”

But Peter was already long gone.

He wouldn’t be happy, two hits a matter of hours apart.


	19. Chapter 19

**Terrifying Trio**

**3.3**

“Baby,” said Aunt May, hand on Peter’s chin and titling it slightly up. She looked into his eyes, moved his head side to side before her hand felt his head. “You don’t feel warm. Are you alright?”

“Just tired,” said Peter and he looked it.

He hadn’t slept much. After a quick strategy session after the meeting with Detective Smith, we’d gone to our bedrooms. After estimating I was asleep, Peter was off again, most likely on patrol. I was still on the fence on whether I should talk to him or not. It could be that it was just a one-time thing, the need to blow off some steam; or it could be other things and I didn’t think I could deal with those.

“Didn’t sleep very well,” he said, a small smile on him. He specifically didn’t look in my direction. I didn’t look at him either, focusing on my breakfast.

“You might be coming down with something,” said Aunt May. “You’re overdue for a cold.” She sighed, frowning. “Let’s hold off going to a doctor and see how things go, but it might be a good idea to miss school. Stay in bed. Taylor, you don’t mind missing school, do you?”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” said Peter. “Especially one younger than me.”

“Taylor is the more responsible one of the two of you,” said Aunt May.

A flicker of something spread over Peter. He closed his mouth tightly. Aunt May noticed.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she said. “Because I do. More than Taylor if I’m being honest.” She gave me an apologetic look. I shrugged. I fit very well into problem-child territory. “But Taylor’s different. She…thinks about things differently. It that makes her seem more adult even when the things she does are childish.”

“I get it,” said Peter. “I’m the baby. Fine,” he said and he walked off in a huff.

Aunt May looked conflicted. I sympathised because even knowing what the issue was about, Ididn’t really know what to do.

“Teenagers, am I right?” I muttered, trying to force some mirth into my tone. It didn’t work.

“Girl problems?”

“I plead the Fifth.”

She gave me a nod. “Look after him, alright? If things get…if you start getting worried then, tell me? I might be able to help.”

“Yeah. I will,” I said. “This’ll pass.”

She let out a shaky breath as she gave me a nod. We finished a quiet breakfast and I got to the dishes since I wasn’t going to school. Aunt May knocked on Peter’s door, told him that she was leaving for work and wished me a good day before leaving.

I went to Peter’s room and knocked.

“Come in,” he said. He’d redecorated, pushing his bed to the side to get more floor space. He was working on my flight pack again, trying to fit in different cases that I didn’t remember buying.

“You okay?”

 _“No,”_ he said. “I just hate being treated like a kid.”

“You are a kid.”

He scowled in my direction. “You too,” he said. “Why isn’t this bothering you? Like somehow my skills don’t matter because I’m young? What does that have to do with anything?”

“The average kid _isn’t_ skilled,” I said with a shrug. “Can blame people when you’re the anomaly.”

“You’re defending Daredevil?” he said, voice tight.

“I’m not defending anyone,” I said. “I’m just…” I took a breath and slowly let it out. “I just want us to get to the point where you’re…more settled. Where you don’t act in a way that could get you killed…like going out alone without telling me.”

“I always go out alone,” he said. “Last night wasn’t any different.”

“It _was,_ ” I said. “You were frustrated. I think you knew that if you told me you were going out; I wouldn’t have thought it was a good idea.”

Peter let out a long breath, the frustration palpable. I could tell that he wanted to say something and a part of me was scared because I knew that whatever he would say would be going for the jugular. Instead he closed his eyes and only took in a breath.

“I’m better than him,” said Peter and it felt like a non-sequitur. It took me a second before my mind eased from the brace and tried to catch up.

“What?”

“Daredevil,” he said. “I’m better than him at this. _We’re_ better than him. He’s…He thinks small, only tackling petty crimes like _that_ makes a difference. He doesn’t deserve to act the way he does.”

“He’s acting the way rational adults in his position feel they should act,” I said, choosing to ignore everything else. “He’s acting the same way _I_ act when it comes to you going out there and fighting crime.”

Peter groaned. _“_ Whydo you keep doing that?” he said, again that frustration. “Why do you keep acting like you’re the adult? Taylor, you’re a kid, just like me and just like Ned. I get you wanting to protect us, but…why are you the exception? Why is it dangerous for Ned to look at the bad stuff and yet it’s alright for you?”

 _Because I_ am _an adult,_ I thought. Not that I could say that. It would be too complicated. It would mean having to explain another world, explain the person I’d been before; it would mean having to explain that I wasn’t really his sister that the memories we had before two years ago were implants and, in some ways, I was an imposter.

It was all a heaping mess I didn’t want to deal with. One I didn’t like even thinking about because it caused a mess of emotions I couldn’t handle. Here, though, it would mean we would be moving away from the original point.

“That’s beside the point,” I said.

“Of course it is,” Peter muttered. “But it really isn’t, is it? It’s part of the same problem except it cuts deeper. You don’t trust me. You don’t trust that I can take care of myself. I could understand it with Ned because you don’t know him. But I’m your brother, we’ve known each other since birth—”

“Which is why I know that you sometimes don’t take things seriously,” I said. “That this is all fun and games to you, that you have this idealistic view that Uncle Ben had, that you want to help people like him, and it’s likely to get you killed the same as him.”

_Oh fuck._

“Like you’re any better,” said Peter, there was anger in his voice. Uncle Ben was still a sore spot and I’d used that spot in an argument. “Do you think we haven’t noticed that you’re different? Uncle Ben dies and suddenly you freak out, school’s different and you’re picking fights. You’re going to court because of assaulting people. Different mechanisms, different methods, but it’s still the same thing. You might want to be different, by you’re not, you’re like me.

“The difference between us is that I trust you. I see what you can do and I judge you with that instead of some vague idea. Even with your issues, even if sometimes it looks like you go too far. You, though, you don’t do the same for me. Instead you treat me like a kid like everyone else, even though that shouldn’t be the case because I’m sure I’ve proven that I’m not.”

 _We’ve moved away from the point,_ I thought. _This is about the Daredevil. His treatment of you. I’m just trying to do what’s best for you, not just now but for the future._

I didn’t say any of that, because…I tried to conceptualise it and I couldn’t. Maybe because it was all connected to my past life or maybe because I didn’t want to take in what Peter said about me not trusting him? There was too much there. It seemed like there were thing I hadn’t noticed that we’d shoved under the carpet and now all of it was laid bare.

Had I compartmentalised again? Had I pushed things away? Was I taking backward steps?

Peter sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I…I’ve noticed your control issues and…I don’t mind them, just…I don’t like that you don’t trust me. Give me room to do what I think is best.”

_Even if it’ll lead to stupid decisions?_

But then, who was I to decide what was in his best interest? I’d done something like this before, on a much larger scale. Things had worked out but I’d been left regretting it, wanting to do something different.

“Okay,” I said. I’d thought I’d been succeeding in being less controlling, it seemed I wasn’t. At least I recognised it now. I knew that there was room for improvement and I could continue to work at it. “More trust. But…”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be careful.”

I nodded. “I’m going to go out and scout,” I said. “Maybe think about things.”

“I’ll be here,” he said. “Finishing this.”

Silence stretched, slightly awkward and then I left.

***

Daniel sat on the chair in front of me. He had an ever-warming kettle out and I was on my third helping of tea. In that time, he’d sat there, watching me with his keen, patient eyes, and I’d said nothing.

I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry I’m wasting your time.”

He shook his head. “Things are quiet,” he said. “At least the big things are. I’ve taken on an apprentice, which, at this point, means he’s nothing more than an intern. He deals with the small things and allows me to focus elsewhere.”

 _Thank you,_ I thought. I could tell what he was doing. He’d done it enough times that I’d cottoned on, easing me into talking by establishing a rapport.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” he said. “There was a disturbance, someone trying to brute force into this dimension.”

My heart almost stopped. “From my world?” I said.

“No,” he said. “A much closer world, relatively speaking. Experiments into teleportation as far as we can figure it. We’re keeping track and have chosen not to step in. Their intentions are pure and they’ve taken precautions as I’m to understand.”

“What arethey trying to do?”

“Energy,” he said. “They, like many other beings, have chosen to look sideways for their energy needs. Using a technological base to do what Sorcerers do. What _you_ do.”

“Off-loading their problems onto other worlds? Other universes?”

Daniel shrugged. “There are places that are still in a state of imbalance,” he said. “Nothing more than energy. There are places which are nothing more than energy, except with an intelligence to them. They could well tap into these universes; indeed we’ll steer them in that direction if they’re closer to success, with the Ancient One’s permission.”

“Right,” I said and I sighed. I shook my head. “I’m choosing to sidestep her.”

“You know that that’s unhealthy,” he said. “Our working, mostly, is about dealing with consequences instead of pushing them aside or sometimes not dealing with them at all. I might be wrong, but isn’t it the reason you came here today?”

I swallowed, feeling my stomach twist. “You’re not wrong,” I said.

He nodded. I wanted to think it was a self-satisfied nod, but, when I really looked at it, it was just a nod.

“Your brother is closer to you,” he said. “Things that are closer to us are harder to deal with. Which is why I want us to focus on this, on the Ancient One, and what you feel about her.”

“I don’t trust that you won’t tell her this,” I said. “Of our meetings. Someone that powerful, someone with that much influence on you and…” I shook my head.

Daniel opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue; a diagram appeared, double bordered circle with a shifting mess of lines and a symbol at it centre, all drawn in an orange light.

“A spell,” he said, tongue pulled back. “It was to ensure that I wouldn’t disclose our meetings to anyone. The Ancient One and I talked it over, of our biases and how we might treat you. She knows the full limits of what you could do given enough motivation, she knows the full breadth and depth of what you did when you fought against the Primordial Entity. She knows that she fears you, she knows that your Faerie Queen fears you, and that it would have been the easiest thing for them to use me to get a sense of how you’re dealing, and restrict your freedoms as they deem necessary.”

“And this helps?”

He nodded. “In a capacity. It binds my mind and tongue,” he said. “It is one of the few unbreakable spells that exists, even _I_ can't break it. You can trust when I say, anything you say is said in confidence.”

I let out a breath and felt a weight that had been on my shoulders ease just a little. Another thing I’d pushed aside. I knew that the Ancient One was keeping track of me, it would have been stupid not to, but…I hadn’t wanted to think about it because it would have been a reminder that this was jail. It was for my protection, sure, there were people who were still scared of me, who’d want to hurt me; it was for my benefit, trying to make me a happier person by giving people to love, a chance at becoming a better person; but it was also to keep others safe _from_ me.

It made sense to keep track of me from her perspective, but in was also heavy from _mine_. This helped, knowing that she had my interests in mind even when she was working on a bigger scale. A reminder that the people in charge _could_ be good.

“Peter and I had a fight,” I started, because as much as I cared about my feelings with the Ancient One, the feelings connected to her took the backseat to helping me have a better relationship with my brother.

“It…It started off with one thing, but then it just sort of spiralled. He thinks, and maybe it’s true, that I treat him like a kid. Which I very well might, but he doesn’t get that it’s to protect him.”

“You have his best interest at heart?” said Daniel.

The question felt pointed, like the sort of thing Tattletale might say at her enemy to get them to be introspective, to choose to give up instead of forcing a fight.

_You’re doing this wrong. Drawn lines. Equating Daniel to an enemy so you don’t have to think about this._

I let out a breath. “Yes,” I said, because that was true, that’s what I thought. “But…I _know._ Sometimes you have to let people make their mistakes, have them deal with things they’re way, but with what we’re doing? With Peter risking his life when he goes out in costume?”

“Did you tell him how you feel?”

“He knew,” I said. “And he made things harder by making it an issue of trust. I trust him, I do. But there’s only so much trust I can extend when the alternative is death.”

“An exercise,” said Daniel, sitting slightly forward, hands steepled. “You’re Peter, with all the knowledge that Peter has. As things stand, he doesn’t know about your past life and what you think are mitigating circumstances. All he knows is that he has a sister who wants to be a hero, who want to be like him, tackling crime up close instead of afar as her powers lets her. What would you do?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I know what I wouldn’t be doing.” Daniel raised a brow. “Peter’s been building me something, an anti-grav pack that will give me better mobility. It’s unspoken, but I think we all understand that when it’s done is when I’ll go out as Lacewing. In his position, I wouldn’t finish it. I’d be slow.”

“He hasn’t been, though?” he asked. I shook my head. “Why?”

“Because he trusts me,” I said. “But—”

“You’re an adult,” he said. “I know this. _You_ know this. Yet he still trusts you while thinking you’re his age.”

“So I should extend that same trust, even though I understand the situation better than him?” I asked.

“Or you could help him understand,” said Daniel. I opened my mouth to speak and Daniel held up a hand. “I know, you’ve said it before, that telling Peter about your past is something you don’t look forward to. But that’s not the only way. How does a parent prepare a child for the world?”

I shrugged. “They do their best,” I said. “Teach them what they know, but let the child decide what they want at the end of it all. They try to find a balance.” I swallowed, thinking about Dad. “Sometimes their best isn’t good enough.”

“That is a fact you might have to deal with,” he said. “You don’t have perfect information. You have to think, how does one deal with a child that thinks they know better?” he said. “Don’t think about it in the abstract, but think about it in _your_ position. You’re lucky that you remember the life you had as a child, which means you understand the disconnect between the old and young.”

“I have to ask, how would I have liked to be treated?” He nodded. I sighed. “More than anything I would have liked to be treated with the respect I’m due.”

I sighed again.

“Thanks, Daniel.”

He gave me a smile.

***

There was shuffling. Peter concentrating too much on his work and Ned was looking between Peter and me. Peter had told him about our fight, which made sense, really because they were friends.

“Peter,” I said. He looked up. Ned froze.

“Um…I’m gonna go,” said Ned.

“No,” I said. “We had a fight which is normal. We’re different people, even if we grew up together. It’s inevitable we’d have disagreements.”

“So how do we move forward?” Peter asked.

“We deal,” I said. “We find a way to move which everyone can agree to.” I took a breath and slowly let it out. “Which means that you’ll have to call me out. I have control issues, Ned, and it doesn’t help to enable them. If I’m being too pushy, then it’s better you tell me, we talk through it, than me just having the final word. If we keep doing that then this will be less a team and more military. This might become less worth it.”

“Okay,” said Ned.

Peter only nodded.

We stood in silence, just looking at each other.

“So should we do it now?” said Ned.

“The sooner the better,” I said with a shrug.


	20. Chapter 20

**Terrifying Trio**

**3.4**

“Analysis,” I said.

Ned was on his computer and Peter sat with a notebook open, a pen stowed behind his left ear, a pencil in his mouth and another jotting down notes. I was in the air, surrounded by blue light; with a flick the light disappeared and I fell, bending my legs as I landed.

“Started with three places,” said Ned. “But, through tracking, we’ve gotten over ten pawn shops that also sell guns. Reading up on the places, they’re diverse, but most of them are owned by one person. There aren’t any business relationships, but some of the owners know each other.”

I started at a run and jumped, activating the pack. My momentum carried me forward and I sailed through the air, going slightly up. I deactivated the pack and continued forward before gravity took hold and I went down. I landed in a roll, feeling as the protective casing scraped against the ground.

It was a good thing I’d dithered on finishing my costume because it would need to be reworked. The mess of wires would have to meld seamlessly into the costume, the protective casing would have to be a part of it if instead of being an eyesore and I’d have to change the colours. I’d wanted a light green and white before, but since the colours of the anti-grav effect were blue, I’d have to go back to my Weaver colours just a shade darker.

 _It’s not a step back,_ I let myself think. Because even if it was a reminder of who I’d been, it didn’t mean I was going back to being that person.

Ned continued, “Transcripts of their conversations.”

He was frowned as he read through them. Ned had recorded me as I’d recited the conversations, downloading a program that was voice-to-text and written them down. As a security measure we’d bought a laptop and external hard drive which Ned said wouldn’t ever feel the glory of being connected to the Internet.

“And it sounds like they decided territories between themselves,” he said. “Not becoming competition which might is smart. They trade in guns and war between them would be deadly.”

“Or it could speak to them being employed by the same person but playing it down for our benefit,” I said.

“There’d be slip ups, right,” said Peter, his words muffled by the pencil in his mouth. “The Big Man’s people still slipped up even if the guy was uptight about keeping himself safe.”

“Maybe these guys are better,” said Ned. “They’re a smaller group and from how seamless this is, it seems like this had been going on for a little while.”

“Bigger picture it doesn’t make sense,” Peter said. He looked up, stowing his pencil behind the other ear and then taking out the one his mouth. “Taylor hasn’t _really_ been operating that long, especially not long enough for them to start working around her. She’s been interspersed, not giving much detail.”

“Compartmentalisation,” I said through bugs. I ran up to a wall and activated the pack, landing on the wall. I pushed off, angling so I turned head over heal and cut it off. I fell, landing with a little stumble back.

Peter frowned. “That’s…that could mean unnecessary wars over territory,” he said. “Especially if you mean it how I think you mean it?”

“And how do you think I mean it?” I asked.

“That they don’t actually know that they’re working for the same person,” he said. “That whoever is running this is not telling his people and they’re having to sort out territory on their own.”

I landed in a backward roll, coming up and pushing off. I activated the pack to gain distance. I cut it off, sailed down and landed ducking low, pushing forward and activating the pack again. I sailed forward and then cut it off, sailing forward and landing in another roll, then coming up to my feet.

“Or it could be that they’re subtly manipulating things,” I said. “They’re the leader of every group, they tell them that there are terms of territory and that his people shouldn’t attack other selling their wares. They could do this through proxy and not get implicated.”

 _“Or,”_ said Ned, “these are just groups of minor players. We don’t really have evidence that there’s someone in the background. Simple explanation is usually the best.”

Peter gave Ned a long look. “Yeah, but that wouldn’t be cooler than taking down some criminal mastermind,” he said.

Ned shook his head in disbelief. “That’s…What?” He looked at me, and I could see he wanted a semblance of sanity. I was rolling around in the air, surrounded by blue light, and then fell, feet pointed toward ground, activated the pack and landed, cut it off before I could be pushed off into the air again.

“That’s not really an argument,” said Ned.

Peter shrugged. “How I feel about it,” he said. “How are you that good in a matter of hours with that?”

“Who hasn’t ever thought about being able to fly,” I said. I was breathing a little harder. I’d been doing this a lot. “Sparring practise? I want to see how it scales with outside impact.”

“I really don’t want to be punching my second real project,” said Peter.

“You won’t punch hard,” I said. “Come on. Might teach you to fight a mover.”

“Fifteen more minutes,” said Peter. “I’ve almost got the designs done. I’m just working on how the trigger will work with the gun thing.”

“What are you working on now?” Ned asked.

“Web gun for you,” said Peter. “I’m thinking it’ll fire a large, sticky web that’ll just fall over a person. I’ll be using an air gun mostly, changed so that it’ll take cartridges and—”

“Not that that’s not cool,” said Ned. “Which it is, so thanks for including me. But what would I need a gun for? Which, like I said, is really cool and I really want it. I’m the guy in the chair, I won’t need to fight. If I’m being honest, I don’t really _want_ to fight.”

“You’re our information source,” I said. “One of our strongest members from a data analysis standpoint.”

“That’s not true,” Ned said and he was blushing. “You could do what I do with your bugs. Most of the stuff we do have is because of information you get.”

“Most of the money we’ve been spending is because of you,” I said. “Pictures you’re selling and deals you’re making tracking markets. Then there’s the fact that stuff is moving online and you’re good at that, helping us with security so we aren’t hacked. You’re important, Ned.”

He smiled a little. “Thanks,” he said, looking down, fingers hovering over his keyboard.

“Okay,” I said. “Fifteen minutes, sparring and then separate patrolling. I want to get used to running around the city with this thing even if I don’t have my costume yet.”

“And I,” Ned said with a sigh, “will be doing homework I’ve been putting off.”

“Told you, you should have done it at lunch,” Peter said.

“Anyway,” said Ned. “We moved away from things. We have all this information on them, but not enough to know what they’re doing, so…what?”

They were both looking at me. “Take things slow while we gather more information,” I said. “The waters might be poisoned, but this is less about swooping in at key moments but collecting information. We’re still waiting on Detective Smith and what he’ll finally decide, but as things stand, we don’t want to mess up whatever operations they might have.”

“And things with the Daredevil?” Peter said. “From what he said, it sounded like whatever they’re doing is serious.”

I shrugged. “It very while might be, but he’s not the only person working at it,” I said. “Him and Elektra, as well as someone called Stick. From how he made Stick sound, he’s more pragmatic and he’ll have a greater number of people working for him.”

“We aren’t going to investigate?” said Peter.

“Let’s respect territory.”

Peter looked at me with a queer expression. “We’re heroes,” he said. “It should be about helping people more than territory.”

“And yet we’ve been acting on it, even subconsciously,” I said. “You’ve mostly been sticking to Queens; Luke Cage has been in Harlem; and Daredevil’s stuck in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Also territory makes sense,” said Ned. “You know things in Queens better than anyone and the Daredevil will know Hell’s Kitchen if he’s from that neighbourhood. You know the dynamic on the socio-political stuff which means you can move around it better than you would anywhere else.”

“Whatever,” said Peter. “You guys are better at dealing with people.”

“In this specific circumstance,” I added. “You’re better at talking to them; Ned is better at figuring them out; and I’m…”

“Better at breaking them,” said Peter.

“That’s not true,” I said. I looked at Ned. “Is it?”

He gave me a small shrug, which amounted to a loud affirmative.

“Really?”

“Yes,” said Ned. “Like…the whole dog training thing. I mean, there are nuances, but…” He shrugged.

“Okay,” I said, sighing. “I’m good at breaking them, whatever. Finish up so we can spar.”

***

The night was _brisk_ but I didn’t mind.

My pace was measured, less running at full speed than a light jog. The edge of the roof neared, the neighbouring building slightly higher, and I pushed a light faster. I activated the pack and hovered until I was well over the small space and landed, running without losing too much momentum.

I’d been running for close to an hour, taking short breaks by hovering ahead. I hadn’t felt any crime, hadn’t been forced to really fight anyone and I was starting to get tired to boot, which meant I’d have to call it a night soon. Not that I minded, this was more about using the parkour I’d picked up and developing strategies on how to use my anti-grav pack.

The building I was running on was coming to an end, and the neighbouring building was too high for just a jump. There were bugs on there, laid out to give me an image without having to focus with my eyes. I jumped, a short hop and sailed forward with the pack activated. I hit the wall, not really feeling the impact and instead feeling as my forward momentum was cut short and turned backward. I cut the anti-grav pack before I pushed back and I slipped down, until my fingers found a crevice to get into.

The sudden stop _hurt,_ but it wasn’t too much. I hadn’t been moving too fast and it meant my momentum stalled, even if my fingers were starting to lose the little purchase they had. I pulled myself slightly up and activated the pack. The momentum was small, but the pack meant I kept moving when I started, ignoring gravity.

I kept straight, head tilted up so I wouldn’t bump against the building and cause complication. When I reached the top, still moving up in a straight line, I hooked my foot at a ledge and that meant my momentum was all over the place. I angled slightly forward, cut the pack and fell, landing hard but the sense I got from my bugs meant I could roll and come up.

It was exhilarating, something new that didn’t just become a mental background task. I could focus on my body, how it moved; focus on the timing of the pack, how it would interact with the world. It was _exhilarating,_ making me feel alive in a way that I hadn’t for the longest time. My power, even when it had been cut short in certain avenues, had reached its peak in terms of experience. I had my bag of tricks and could effectively use them, which meant that using it didn’t have the same sort of thrill as before.

 _Is this you, passenger?_ I thought. We hadn’t really talked in a while, just this part of my life I’d been trying to deal with while ignoring at the same time. _Do you want the good old days?_

There was no answer, but I knew how the answer might be. It was a jumble, the thoughts of the passenger. They’d been too big for me but I’d caught traces. She’d had goals, Khepri, but all of them had trended towards fighting or getting into fights, into dealing with things with violence.

Here, she would say _yes._

I’d been scared so long that it would be going back to that, which was why I’d been measured in how I’d moved. I’d stopped things, but that had been because I hadn’t been able to ignore them, for the most part but I’d treated all of this like an addict would, stopping and then worrying that I might slip at any moment, choosing to not do any of it.

But, perhaps as they would, I now felt that I could maybe start ‘drinking’ a little. Peter and Ned were my sponsors, and though I still felt I had a domineering personality, I had the sense that they wouldn’t let me fall back into the bad times.

I could do this.

And thankfully I could flex my muscles a little.

***

There over thirty people in the abandoned building. there was blood in the air, some people groaning and being looked over by their compatriots. A sort of circle had formed, a large guy and a short girl in the middle undergoing a brutal sparring match.

The building was in disrepair, a large hole through it that meant I could look in. The guy was larger, brutish, but he was slow. The girl moved faster, weaving under hits and striking at key points where there was weakness.

“Good, good, Carla,” a man said, rather short and with an air to him. He stood, arms folded behind his back and watching the fight with a keen gaze. “Adi. She’s forming a pattern, watch, learn and know where she’s _going_ to be.”

Adi was still struggling as Carla struck, trying to defend and failing. He was getting slower, grunting a lot more and then, all at once, he struck. Carla went close for a punch and she found it blocked. Adi lunged, arms closing around Carla in a hug. She squirmed, but it didn’t look like she could get out.

“I think that’s match,” he said. “Both of you get checked out. Light sparring while I talk to the leaders.”

People moved, getting into formations while others got into line. They were twelve in all and they walked a little distance away. Where most of the people sparring were teenagers, looking as though they’d seen harder days, the leader were people in their early to mid-twenties.

“Something going on?” one of them asked, a guy.

“I don’t know,” the lead guy said. “But we’re being watched.”

“Watched?” another said. My heart was beating a little faster. I started gathering bugs.

The guy nodded. “An…exceptional woman,” he said. “Who’s…well, she’s done quite a bit,” he said, smiling. “But that’s something you’ll learn when you reach the upper echelons of our group. I hope you understand.”

“We do,” said a woman. “What does this have to do with us? Is she here to stop us or something?”

“I don’t think so, no,” he said. “I think…well, going by what I know. I think she might want a fight. Don’t you?”

Bugs gathered flying into the room. I’d tagged him, as was protocol, but I felt as the bugs I had on him were pushed off by an invisible membrane. I felt as the leaders shifted, how the teenagers stopped fighting and looked our way.

“Khepri,” the man said, with a broad grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, even through proxy.”

“The Swarm,” the bugs said. “She goes by Lacewing.”

“My apologies,” the man said. “Word has passed about you and the only thing that seems to resonate is that title. Quite fitting, truth be told.”

“Nonetheless,” the Swarm said. “Who are you? How do you know about me?”

“Bakuto,” he said. “I’m a man of many talents, getting information being foremost. I know some people who know others who’ve heard tales of your legend.”

“You’re a Sorcerer?” I asked.

He shook his head. He looked at his leaders, not saying anything, but they got the message. They left, giving him a little distance.

“Magic,” he said, when they were out of earshot, directing the others to go back to sparring. “But different types. They pull energy from other worlds, while I pull energy from the body and spirit, making my will manifest.” He chuckled. “I’m not the best, but good enough that I can boost my senses, making myself a cloak.”

“I’ve fought people that can do the same thing you can,” I said. “People running drugs.”

“Gao,” he said. He took a deep breath and let it out, shaking his head.

“You know her?”

“We’re…not friends,” he said, “but we’ve crossed paths. There are a limited amount of Chi users in the world, especially since it’s such a hard concept to learn, which means when you find one it’s better to keep them close, trade knowledge.”

“Even with what she’s doing?” I said. “Hurting people with her craft?”

He shrugged. “Goa is better than me at the art, better at teaching it,” he said. “She has stronger people and they have guns. I could fight her, which I would like nothing but, but it would lose me people, which I don’t want. Better we not move in the same circles. I do what I do and I let her do what she does.”

“And what is it you do?”

“I take that which the world does not want, give it structure and direction, then let it move forward,” he said.

“Sounds like a cult,” I said.

“I got the idea from what I heard the Ancient One does,” he said with a shrug. He gestured at the rows of fighting youths. “Most of them don’t have homes, almost all of them are angry. The training, the brutality of it takes away a bit of that anger, my training fosters camaraderie between them and I work in the background to get them jobs, a life so that they don’t only have this.”

“A network,” I said. “At your control.”

He chuckled softly. “You make it sound like I control them,” he said. He shook his head. “I don’t. Their lives are theirs and they decide what to do with them. All I hope is that, if they, for example, open a restaurant, they’re willing to employ the people I send their way.”

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” I said. “A part of me is scared that there’s something beneath all of this I might be missing.”

“Then, how about this,” he said. “You train with us a few times. I could even teach you a little about Chi. I don’t know if it will work, you being from another world, but there have been Masters of the Mystic Arts in one form or another in other worlds, I don’t see any reason it wouldn’t.”

I was quiet for a long moment, not really thinking because I _knew_ that I wanted this. Anything else would just be justification and Yamada had told me I used those make me feel better about the stuff I did without feeling at fault. If I was going to do this, then it had to be a decision I was upfront with and that I could live with.

I found Bakuto, I found _this_ suspicious, but that was because I was a pessimistic person as Peter called it. But even so I wanted training that was a little away from Peter. I wanted training with someone that wouldn’t hold back. Peter was too powerful, with his strength able to break me and he knew that, which meant he held back, and in that he was slower because he had to watch himself.

Here, things would be different.

_Aren’t you just trying to justify this?_

Maybe I was, but I knew I was doing it which was better in terms of personal development.

“Lose the cloak,” I said. “I’ve been checking your people and they don’t have weapons. I want to check you.”

“It’s done,” he said without really thinking about it. I couldn’t help but be more suspicious that he’d let me do it. I made sure to check the building for any stowed weapons, finding none like my initial search had shown up.

He didn’t have any weapons and when I was done he put up his cloak again. I jumped down the hole, letting myself fall a little before activating the pack. Gravity didn’t have any more of an effect, which meant no additional velocity, but I continued to fall, albeit slower.

I had an audience as I landed.

I was on the shorter end of everyone here, but not the shortest even if I was the youngest.

“Guys,” he said, “this is Lacewing and the Swarm.”

“The Swarm,” said one of the guys. “You work with Spider-Man. Is he here too?”

“No,” the Swarm said. “He’s patrolling.”

“Oh,” the guy said. “Wouldn’t have been cool if he were here? Who are you?” he said to me. “His little sister?”

Had to wonder what gave away my gender.

“Sure, let’s go with that,” I said.

“Lacewing wants a bit of sparring practice with Spider-Man on patrol,” said Bakuto. “She happened past us and I invited her in.”

“Don’t you have powers?” a girl asked. “That sort of makes it unfair.”

“Fights are rarely fair,” I said.

Another guy snorted. “Kind of hard to take that in when a kid’s saying it,” he said.

The guy beside him slapped his shoulder.

“She’s what, a year, two, younger than you? Get over yourself, Jordan. Just because you’re big doesn’t make you older.”

“Or smarter,” a girl muttered.

“All I got from that is that you’ve been checking out my bigness,” Jordan said, ignoring the girl.

“You guys are so gross,” another said, chuckling lightly. Looking at them, I could see the ease, the friendships that had developed. All of it was natural, even if some of them had bruises. I let myself calm a little. Maybe this wasn’t all that bad, just different.

“I’m thinking seven people to start things off,” said Bakuto. “Unless you think otherwise?”

“Ten,” I had the Swarm say, arms folding. “It’ll be a good training for your powers. She can sense people, so even she’s not looking at you she’ll know you’re there. Be on the lookout for that.”

I gave the Swarm a look. “You’re taking away my edge,” I said. The Swarm shrugged. Bakuto was taking all of this in stride, even knowing I was talking to myself. I shrugged. “Whatever, I can take them.”

Some of them stood straighter at that.

***

The stood ten in all, arrayed around me, looking at me with keen eyes. One of them, in front of me, started forward and that was sign for all of them to move. I rushed forward, jumped and activated my pack with a knee up. I sailed, cut it off and I hit the girl who’d just gotten her arms up. She fell back and me with her, but I landed in a roll, coming up and turning around.

I couldn’t get myself caught in a circle because they wouldn’t come one at a time. I had to make it so they were coming towards me, give me a chance to fight a few before I was dogpiled. They didn’t rush forward, instead trying to encircle me. I pushed forward: Three were in front of me and they mirrored, uncoordinated in fighting as a group which meant essentially one came forward.

He struck and I went low, a punch at his side, twisting out of the way and sweeping a leg to catch the one at the left. He fell, hitting the ground hard and tried to get up and grab me. But I was already away, fighting off the big guy and his friend who fought better as a pair than the others.

I ducked back from the smaller of the two which meant I got closer to the big guy. He kicked and I went under it, running around him and jumping over others that were trying to get me from behind. The pack lit and then was cut as I landed, giving me a bit of distance.

“You’re not really going to win if you go easy on them,” said Bakuto. “They have the numbers. You have to take them down. Don’t worry about a little pain, it’ll only teach them to be better.”

They came at me and I was moving faster, punching harder and my kicks not held back. Even so I managed to slip, focusing too much on three in front of me that I missed the guy who’d fought Carla, Adi, getting behind me. He wrapped me in a hug and I flicked on the pack. It wrapped over both of us and, with him having been moving forward, we continued forward. He panicked and let me go and flailed. Enough of the effect lost hold of him and I continued on my own.

I switched it off and I was free, fighting again.

I didn’t win at the end, because even if was hitting a little harder I wasn’t being brutal, I was still holding a little back. That meant it became less a battle of skill and one of stamina, and with them having numbers, they won out.

I stayed, listened to Bakuto as he talked to them, told them about their accommodations, asked about anyone else they thought might want to join the group and even one of the kids moving up, Bakuto having found a mentor for him to live with.

It was good. He was doing good, even if there was the possibility that it might all be an act.

“Goa,” I said. “I’m going to take her down.”

We were the last to leave. He’d offered to drive me closer to home but I’d refused.

“That would good for the world,” he said.

“I need to know more about Chi,” I said. “What it can do. She has people in her forces that can use it.”

He nodded, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out a business card with his number and an address. He handed it over to me.

“We can meet if you feel comfortable,” he said. “You could even wear your costume to hide your identity.”

“Would it do any good?” I asked.

“I heard you have a new face,” he said. I nodded. “Then it would. Though, in all honesty, I’m not sure what you look like. Word that reached me was that you had one arm.”

“How?” I said. “I have to know. It’s going to keep bugging me.”

“The Ancient One’s sect is not the only group of magic users,” he said. “There are some that aren’t as…restrictive about the dissemination of information as she is. One of them is a friend, magician to magician, and she watched as the worlds shuddered under the Primordial’s power and its eventual end. She shared the information with me, and I’m sure, others she calls friends.”

“So more people might know about me,” I said and sighed.

“Yes, but don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re being watched over by the Ancient One. None but the most desperate would attack you and, as the years have gone, they’ve largely been taken care of.”

Bakuto glanced at his watch.

“I really should be leaving,” he said. “It’s late and I have to sleep. I wasn’t planning to stay out this late.”

I nodded. “It was good to meet you, Bakuto,” I said.

He gave me a wide smile. “The pleasure is all mine.”

And he left, giving me a lot to think about. Another source of knowledge about what was going on about the wider universe, even if I didn’t know his motives. A part of me wanted to keep my knowledge of him close, not tell anyone, but that would be stupid.

First chance I could, I would ask Daniel about this.

I ran home, still thinking, and it was a little irritating especially with how many drones were in the air, following me. People, it seemed, wanted to get in on selling pictures of the heroes running around Queens.


	21. Chapter 21

**Terrifying Trio**

**3.5**

“Ugh,” Peter said. He flopped down, laying back on the couch. _“Drones,”_ he said. “Drones everywhere. They’re _so_ annoying. Do you know howlong it took me to get home? It feels like the damn things are all over Queens.”

“Well, you _are_ predictable,” I said. He gave me a look. “I mean that you’re predictable when it comes to how to get footage of you. You patrol Queens mostly, you sail past tall buildings and you do this almost every day. All people have to do is get drones, hang them in the sky and follow you around when they spot you. Easy money.”

Peter let out a long breath. “An hour,” he said. “Almost an hour before I could lose those things. They were just everywhere? Have you run into any of them?”

I nodded. I’d patrolled in the morning, missing my first class. Mr Carrigan was my favourite teacher, the sort that only did his job up to the syllabus and nothing more. It meant that, as long as I did well and didn’t bring down his average, he was good even if I skipped his class. It was unlikely he’d call Aunt May, he hadn’t so far.

“I just covered them with bugs,” I said.

“I wish I could do that,” he said. “And, yeah, I know, I could just web them up. But there’s the chance I could break them and then there’ll be this whole thing about some kid with hurt feelings because I broke their drone.” He made a disgusted face.

“Likely to be a parent that a kid,” I said. “The drones I’ve run across seemed expensive.”

“Same,” said Peter. He stood, stretched and went over to the kitchen, grabbing some juice. “Which is why I don’t want to touch them.” He sat back down, legs sitting on the table near where I was sitting. I pushed them away and he chuckled. “Costume?”

I nodded. “Changing colour schemes,” I said. “Blue and white to go with the whole colour effect with your thing.”

He nodded. “Wish I could figure out how to upgrade it,” he said. “But honestly, most of what I was doing was working off of stuff that the Vulture and his people had already built.”

“It’s fine as is,” I said.

Peter shrugged. “Would like to make it better though,” he said. “Maybe figure out a smaller energy source. Which, I know, that seems crazy when it looks like that battery has infinite power.”

“Really?”

“Well, not infinite,” he said. “Just that there’s a lot of power packed in there and what we’re taking isn’t even scratching the surface. It makes sense from a race that can travel the crazy distance it would take to get here.”

“Didn’t they use a portal?” I said. “I think I remember a portal.” I stopped working with my colour and pulled out my phone, quickly searching. There were pictures of the invasion, even video albeit it was shaky, a lot of noise in the background. “There was a portal in the sky.”

“You didn’t need to check,” said Peter. “I know there was. I’m just thinking that they’re space-faring, which it seems like they are from Iron Man’s report.”

“Okay,” I said. Peter flicked on the TV while I continued my work. He was watching some cartoon show that revolved around twins. He’d tried to get me invested and though it was charming, it wasn’t to the point of watching it as religiously as he did.

“Oh!” he said. “Ned said you had him investigating someone. Barracuda?”

“Bakuto,” I said. “Someone I ran into last night. He’s…a collector of homeless children, teaches them to fight and helps them make it in the world where it would have been harder before.”

“Sounds like a cult,” he said, taking a sip of his juice.

“What I thought! But…” I shrugged. “Didn’t seem to get that feel when I was training with them. But then, that’s how cults work, right? Community, except it’s insular, that gives the person in charge a crazy amount of power and control.”

“O-kay?” he said. “You thinking about stopping him?”

I shrugged. “Don’t really know. Don’t really have a plan, but I’m interest in him.”

Peter’s eyes opened wide. “Do you have a crush, dear sister?” he said. “I always _knew_ you had a thing for older guys—”

“Yep. Nope. Nope. No. No. _No,”_ I said, shaking my head. “Let’s not go there. Let’s not go there. Let’s not even tread in that direction.”

Peter’s grin was even larger, not laughing, but I could see it in his eyes, the mirth.

“You’re so easy to jibe sometimes,” he said, still smiling. He sat back. “You’re interested in this guy?”

“He’s a magic user,” I said. “Not like Daniel, though, he’s like the people we fought. Gao’s people.”

“He works for Gao?”

I shook my head. “At least he says no. He knows her though. What they do is called Chi, using energy of the body and spirit to do stuff.”

“Still getting cult vibes,” he said. “After you said the thing about the Ancient One, I read a little about cults, hoping that if I knew a little about them, I would have defences. The thing they do a lot is draw you in with something you really want: A place where everyone thinks the same way you do, people who believe what you believe. In your case it’s wanting to be stronger.”

I sucked in a deep breath and then blew it out. Bakuto _did_ know me, at least that’s what I got from him.

“He’s a spymaster,” I said. Peter raised a brow. “You ever notice how easy it is to overlook a homeless person?” Peter frowned but nodded. “Now imagine those people with a goal, to spy on someone.” I sighed, frowning. “You might be right, him catering things so that I get closer to him.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I know you want to be stronger.”

I waved it off. “A part of me wants to infiltrate them,” I said, but I shook my head, thinking back to the Undersiders and how things had played out. It was too much of a risk that I might get attached. I looked at Peter and how he might help get me rooted. He could be my handler. But that was still taking too much of a risk.

“We can use them to get information, though,” he said. “If this guy is a cult-master, then he’ll be a good manipulator. One way to shrug off the effect of a manipulator in part is precommitment. An action you’ll do when action ‘x’ happens. I’m thinking that you precommit to getting the information and then leaving.”

“I was thinking about asking Daniel about that,” I said. “Get the lay of the land. I was going to go on over there today. Ask him about Chi and if he knows about Bakuto. Ned is going over any businesses that he has, any interests worth looking into.”

“Smart,” he said. “I’ll give you a ride. Haven’t been in the training room in a while. Maybe we can patrol together after?”

“Okay,” I said. “May’s home…and she brought a guy.”

“What?” said Peter. “A guy? How old is he? What does he look like?”

“May’s age, so…” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know how old May is. Do you?”

He shook his head. “Ever since she said she lied I’ve been having doubts,” he said. “Tried to get it out of her and it didn’t work.” He shot up. “I hear them and they’re _laughing_.”

“You can hear them?” I said. “They’re down the hall.”

“I’ve been practising,” he said. His face was scrunched in a play of immense concentration. “Focus. What does this mean? Are they dating? I mean, why would she bring him here if they weren’t? How are we supposed to act?”

“Calm down,” I said. “Let’s just act normal.”

“Normal,” said Peter.

***

“So, _Adam,_ ” I said. May closed her eyes, she was smiling but it was tight. Adam sat across from me and Peter. We both hadn’t taken our eyes away from him. Peter had even puffed himself up to look bigger. “What do you do?”

“I…God,” he said. “I know what I do. I’ve been doing it a long time, but I’m suddenly blanking.” He sounded nervous, eyes not settling on me or Peter. He cleared his throat. “I’m a financial analyst, which means—”

“Deal with people’s money,” Peter interrupted. “What are your intentions with our Aunt?”

“Peter,” May said, aghast. “Adam, I’m sorry about them. But—”

“Yeah,” he said. He cleared his throat again. “I… _We,_ don’t know yet.” A small pause and he was about to say something else but I stepped in.

“Good save on the we,” I said. Which threw him off a little. He gave me a look as I took a sip of water. I didn’t break eye contact. He did, looking at May for help. I couldn’t help but shake my head at that, feeling as though it spoke something about him that he’d faltered.

May had her hand covering her face.

“Don’t give Adam a hard time,” she said. “Let’s have a civil dinner. Please?”

“Sure,” I said, smiling a little. Peter smiled. Adam looked unnerve. “Please tell us about being a financial analyst.”

“Um…well,” and he started. It was pretty interesting, all things considered and it was the starting point for better conversation points. It was a pretty good night, even when I caught Peter trying to still puff up his chest after forgetting a few times.

“I’ll walk you out,” May said as the night ended.

“Bye, Adam.”

“Bye,” he said. They closed the door behind them. “That went well.”

May shook her head. “They’re listening,” she said. “They’ll sneak out and keep tabs on us. Let’s talk in the elevator.”

“Okay,” said Adam.

“How does she know?” said Peter. He’d had to stick his ear to the door even though he had enhanced senses.

“She’s pretty perceptive,” I said. I moved bugs towards the elevator before I stopped, pulling them back. I punched Peter and he moved away without trouble. He gave me a look.

“What’s that for?” he said.

“Distracting you because what we’re doing is creepy,” I said. I punched again and he moved out of the way. He jumped and landed on the ceiling. Bugs filled in and they drifted towards him.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “You’re probably listening in on them right now.”

“I’m not,” I said. “Just keeping track of how they’re moving.”

“Fine, whatever. Get the bugs away.”

I pulled them back and he jumped off, landing and going to the living room. He flicked on the TV, an old showing of the Stark Expo. We sat in silence, me keeping track of Aunt May and randomly trying to punch Peter so he didn’t focus enough that he’d be able to hear them.

The door clicked and we turned towards May as she came in. She was blushing as she entered and she tried to hide that to no avail. She sobered a little when she saw us.

“So,” I said. “Adam, huh? How long’s that been going on?”

“I think that’s supposed to be my line,” May said. I shrugged. She sighed. “Sorry to just throw you guys in deep water like that. I should have told you he was coming for dinner.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” said Peter. “So…you guys are like…dating?”

“Um…yes,” she said. “You guys don’t mind, do you?”

I snorted. “You’re asking for our permission?”

She shrugged. It took a second for things to connect, that this was the first time she’d dated since Uncle Ben.

“We don’t mind,” said Peter. “If he makes you happy, then that’s that. But if he doesn’t.” He crapped each knuckle, closed his hands into fists to crack them some more and then cracked his neck.

“I don’t think that that’s healthy,” May said, smiling a little. “Clean up, homework and then it’s off to bed for the both of you.”

Of course we didn’t go to bed. After clean-up and homework, Peter had already done his and I rushed through mine just so that I could leave, we were out on patrol: Spider-Man, the Swarm and Lacewing.

***

A run and then a jump, flicking on the pack. Spider-Man, moving past me, fired a web that connected to me and he threw me forward, forcing me to sail faster through the air. I tracked everything with the mental image I had with my bugs, seeing if there were any buildings too close and I flicked off the pack.

Arms splayed, catching the wind and slowing myself down and I continued to shoot forward, moving slightly down. When I was too close to a building top, I angled my body so that I would land feet first, flicked on the pack and then hit the roof. I didn’t feel the impact, instead I was shot back, slightly up and into the air, moving with the same momentum as before except this time it was slightly upward. I flicked off the pack again so I could ween away some of that momentum through gravity.

Spider-Man kept close, swing slower than he usually did and sticking to the rooftops so he could catch me. The Swarm was an amorphous shape in the air, flying ahead of us and hiding us from drones which still littered the sky.

I started drifting down and flicked on my pack, turning it off a second before landing. I was still running, still moving forward as Spider-Man landed beside me, running slower than he usually did.

“We’re going to have to work on that,” he said. “The coordination.”

I nodded, my mind already running through the ways we could work in combination in fights. I had a sense of how Spider-Man fought and though that wasn’t mutual, it would be with experience.

A portion of the Swarm descended while a majority kept flying ahead.

“Hey, Swarmie,” said Spider-Man. “Missing us, up there?” The Swarm was a face and she looked bored at the comment. “Admit it you love me.”

The Swarm only sighed. “There’s something going on ahead,” she said. “Three people, one of them has a power. They’re breaking into ATMs. I’ll let you and Lacewing take care of it.”

“Thanks, Swarmie,” I said. “Directions?”

Spider-Man looked in my direction and I had the sense that he was smiling. The Swarm continued to look bored.

The face turned into an arrow. Spider-Man and I moved. It didn’t take us long to reach them. One was an Inhuman, most of his body normal save that one arm had green crystal growths running up along it. He touched the arm to the ATM, letting the growth spread onto it before starting to make them vanish.

“Okay,” said Spider-Man. “First night out. Have to show you the ropes. First, threat analysis.”

I glared towards him, not that he could see me through the mask and not that I could see him. But I could tell that he was enjoying this.

“Three guys, one with powers,” I said. “I’m thinking striker with how his powers work, which means we play this by distance. The two other guys have pistols but Swarmie’s already disabled them. I’ll take them while you take the powered guy.”

Spider-Man nodded. “Let’s move.”

“Throw manoeuvre,” I said then ran and jumped off the side of a building. Spider-Man did the same but he jumped farther. I felt a web connect to my back and then I was flung forward. I flicked on the pack and sailed, angled so that I was moving towards the trio.

They noticed, because it was hard not to notice when I was preceded by a flash of blue light. The gunmen pulled out their pistols in quick order, turning towards me while the Inhuman pointed his arm towards us.

It was instinct that I reacted, cutting off my pack and falling faster. It was just in time because slivers of green shards flew through the air, flying past me. I landed faster than I’d been meaning to, especially since I’d been planning for these guys to take a lot of the momentum but pain was an old friend. I landed in a roll, hissing and coming up and jumping to the side as the guns were turned towards me and the triggers pulled in quick succession.

They didn’t go off, but it was better getting used to dodging than betting on the guns always not going off. The Inhuman pointed his arm in my direction before he was jerked to the side, Spider-Man pulling him away. That motion meant my targets looked in the wrong direction and I struck: Jumping and flicking on and then cutting the pack. I sailed up, knee extended and I hit him under the chin, forcing him to stumble back.

I flicked the pack on again, controlling my drop so that I could land, sweep and take the second guy off his feet. I’d hit them, but not hard enough, both of them were already getting to their feet, pulling out switch blades because both their guns were covered by bugs.

I reached at my side, pulling out a thread of silk and holding it in front of me. The guys moved a little, so that they were at either side of me, forcing me to look at one or the other. I felt motion behind me, the Inhuman pointing wildly swinging an arm under Spider-Man’s assault and I ducked down, dodging his crystal bullets. They hit one of the guys and he screamed, shards of crystal starting to grow over his skin.

I quickly moved forward as his friend looked on in horror. He heard me coming and thrust the knife blindly forward. I ducked under it, grabbing and pulling the outstretched arm with my silk thread. The motion was sudden and unexpected, jerking the arm and eliciting a squeal. The knife dropped and I kicked it away, in the same moment stepping out of the way as another arm flailed towards me.

A little bit of distance and I could see Spider-Man as he fought, keeping his distance and moving around, not giving the Inhuman a bead on him. He caught the Inhuman at times, but he made crystal growths that covered the webs, make them disappear and the webs with them. It didn’t look like Spider-Man would be able to hold him, as I saw it, this would be a fight that would be over the moment Spider-Man ran out of web fluid.

The Swarm descended, a cloud coming in all at once. Before she’d even touched anyone, there were screams, the guy who still had crystal growths on him and the one I was still fighting. The latter of the two started running. A portion of the Swarm moved to close him off, while a large number formed a face in the sky.

“Desist,” she said, the sound coming from everywhere around us. “If you do not, Inhuman, I will be forced to bite you with a venomous spider. You won’t die, but you will be in terrible pain.”

The guy who’d been running had stopped, looking all around him with a sense of desperation. The guy who’d been hit by the Inhuman was still on the ground, whimpering. But most of the Swarm’s attention was on the Inhuman. He stood, rigid, look all around. I couldn’t see his face, all of them were wearing masks, but he had the look of one who was about to do something.

Ants found their way on his legs and one of them bit. He hissed, glaring at the face in the sky.

“No venom in that one,” the Swarm said. “But the same won’t be true for the next.”

Spider-Man swung close. “You’re ruining our fun, Swarmie,” he said, not speaking loudly.

A collection of bugs drifted near, making a face. “It was taking too long,” the Swarm said. “Inhuman, your friend is pain because of your power.”

“Better that I don’t do anything until he gets to hospital,” the Inhuman said. “Moment I take that away he’ll have all his skin gone.”

“Fuck me,” Spider-Man said. “Call the cops,” he said to me. “I’ll web these guys up, keeping an eye on him.”

I nodded and called the police. It didn’t take that long to explain what had happened and they told me that they’d already received several calls to this effect, with units making their way towards us. Spider-Man and I waited, with him groaning as half a dozen drones caught up to us.


	22. Chapter 22

**Terrifying Trio**

**3.6**

“Quite a pickle. Quite a _pickle,”_ said Officer Waller. He was a pot-bellied man with a very thick moustache, comically so, so much that I’d been staring at it since he and his partner had arrived.

“Dean,” he said. “The paramedics?”

The younger officer didn’t say anything, only stared at the Swarm hovering in the air, her form a series of faces looking in different directions. A hand materialised and waved. The man visibly swallowed.

_“Dean.”_

“Um…two minutes away,” said Dean, looking away from the Swarm. “Give or take. Sirens.”

“Ah,” said Officer Waller. He looked at the guy on the ground, arms at his side so he wouldn’t touch the crystal covering most of his stomach. “He isn’t going to die, is he?” he said, looking at our Inhuman.

The man shook his head. “It’s eating his skin,” he said, “turning it into crystal, but it’s only attacking skin. I wasn’t trying to kill anyone.”

“Good to hear,” said Officer Waller. He took a breath and looked at Spider-Man. “You say his stuff can grow over anything?”

“Yes, sir,” said Spider-Man. “Crystals grow and he makes them disappear. When he does, the stuff that the crystals took over disappears.”

“Quite the pickle,” said Officer Waller, stretching out the first word. He took another breath. “You know about those boys, the ones that are strong…?”

“The Oxen,” said Dean.

“The Oxen,” said Officer Waller with a minor shake of the head. “Well, we managed to catch one the other day. Seems their people had a kerfuffle with something else and it took them down. Anyway, we zip-tie one of them, handcuffs, the entire thing, and they break out. Push open and break the door and leave. Could have shot them, but we’ve heard about things in Harlem. Luke Cage being shot and the bullets bouncing off, ricocheting and hitting others. Couldn’t have the same thing happen here. Better to let him go.”

“You’re wondering if that might be a good idea here?” I said, bugs hiding my voice. Peter could deepen his voice a little, put on a Jersey accent that was obviously fake and it seemed enough to hide his age. I didn’t think the same would be true for me, going by Bakuto’s people.

“It’s worth considering,” said Officer Waller. “But I’m a little afraid of the ripple. This one knows and he’ll tell others and we’ll lose ground. But there’s also the fact that he could just escape. Easily so, it seems.”

“Quite the pickle,” said Spider-Man.

 _“Quite,”_ said Officer Waller. “You guys don’t mind sticking around while I take them to the station? You seem to be having a calming effect on them.”

“We don’t mind,” said Spider-Man. “Won’t this be bad for you, though? Working with vigilantes?”

“Word’s already going upstream, they know how hard the surge of Inhumans has been. They have the choice, either come up with a solution quickly, or they let _us_ decide how we’re dealing with things. Here, I’m choosing you at my side than the risk of having someone I can’t contain.”

“Smart choice,” said the Swarm.

“Oh, not smart, dear lady,” said Officer Waller. How had he known? I looked at the faces and they were sharper featured, not necessarily female but enough maybe? “Just common sense.”

I’d been hearing the sirens for quite a bit, but the paramedics finally turned the corner. It wasn’t much longer before they arrived. The medics came out and moved to the prone man. Officer Dean Wheeler started reciting what was going on in quick order, with the lead medic nodding. The three medics started moving, pulling stuff out of their packs and standing over the man. The medic gave him an injection and our Inhuman pulled away the crystal. The man screamed as the medics started getting to work.

“You’re going to have to cuff him,” said Officer Waller. “When you’re done. He’s committed a crime, but missing skin is bad, right?”

“Worth looking into,” said the lead medic, calm. It was just another day for all of them save Officer Wheeler who’d gone back to look at the Swarm.

“Leave that to you,” said Officer Waller. “We’ve got an Inhuman and it’s better that we have him back at the station before these three go back to doing their thing.”

“We can stay,” said the Swarm. She’d formed a face that had drifted lower, watching everything. “Nights are often slow and I’d rather we know that this is dealt with before we deal with anything else.”

And it would be good publicity if the drones let the message through that we were working with the police. I’d told Officer Waller that we were being watched and that I was trying to hide us, but I’d lied and told him that I couldn’t track all the drones and some of them might slip through. I moved the bugs so some of the drones were looking in.

Officer Waller snorted. “I’m lucky I’m a few years from retirement or this would be political suicide,” he muttered. “You can—”

“Something’s wrong,” Spider-Man interrupted a moment before a portion of the Swarm noticed something rocketing into the sky. The Swarm broke up, pieces moving away from the projectile while others moved to swarm it. The projectile detonated, letting out a wave of purple light that wiped out a large portion of the Swarm.

Officer Waller let out a long breath, his hand resting at his gun.

“Fuck. What was that?” one of the criminals asked.

“More of the same,” said Officer Waller, resigned. “Do you have any idea?” he asked us.

“Checking,” said the head of the Swarm in our midst. “Spider-Man, Lacewing, on alert. Officers, hands on gun, this might be newly found enemies, but we can’t take the chance one of you guys is the target.”

“Could be that this one,” he said pointing at the Inhuman, “has enemies.”

“I don’t,” the guy said quickly. “I _just_ got my powers and this is my first job.”

“Still a lot we don’t know,” I said. “Better we feel things out. But it might be worth calling backup.”

“Should have…” Officer Waller stopped, looking at Officer Wheeler. “Dean, you did radio for backup, right?”

Officer Wheeler was standing stock still, looking around us where bugs were moving out from the darkness, filling the air around us and hiding us from sight. He hadn’t moved since the explosion and the bugs on him could smell sweat. Officer Waller pulled out his radio, calling in for backup.

“Three suspects,” said the Swarm. “They’re coming our way and they know I’m there.”

“Swarm, maybe take out the drones,” said Spider-Man. “If they were able to buy tech from the Vulture then getting high tech drones to find us would be in their budget.”

The face in our midst nodded and then moved, bugs getting into the drones and starting to chew wires. Most of them just fell from the sky, but some sparked visibly before falling. In less than a minute I’d taken down half their drones, taking out more that had been at points around us.

“They’re not reacting,” said the Swarm. “Either an act or you were wrong.”

“Better if we’re safe and wrong than the alternative,” I said. “We should move. They know our location and they’re coming here. There’s three vans, twelve people per van and if they have _that_ sort of tech their guns may be the same.”

“Can’t exactly shoot if I’m driving,” said Officer Waller.

“Our chances aren’t good having two guns against thirty-six,” said the lead medic. “If this is a vote. I choose running.”

“Ditto,” said Spider-Man.

“I’ve already got bugs en route,” said the Swarm. “They should have a harder time chasing us. Might be able to take them out but I don’t know what other technology they have.”

 _“Concentration is larger,”_ a voice said from one of the vans.

 _“First burst,”_ another said. There were too little bugs for me to see without concentrating entirely on them, but they did something which rippled through the van, taking out my bugs. I tried to get more in, put them in key positions but the thing was pulsating, killing my bugs so quickly that I couldn’t get a good swarm in.

“They’re stopping me,” said the Swarm as the other vans activated the same device. “Something like the sound gun except it reaches in every direction. I think it might work in bursts going by what they said, but it means that I’m pretty useless in taking them out.”

“A fight, then?” said Spider-Man.

“No,” I said. “Guns involved and the Swarm can’t take them out. I won’t take the risk and the Swarm can’t fight which means you’ll be fighting alone. Too much of a risk for relatively little gain when there’s backup we could use.”

Spider-Man nodded. “We should move then,” he said.

“Everyone in their vehicles,” said Officer Waller. “You guys will follow us and I’ll tell our backup where we’re moving. What about you guys?”

“I’ll be with the paramedics,” I said. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them and knowing Spider-Man he’d want his mobility in case the unforeseen happened.

“I’ll be on the roof of the squad car,” said Spider-Man. “Scouting for anything dangerous…it’s happening again.”

Three sets of projectiles moving in the air where there were still bits of the Swarm. They detonated in tandem, darkening the view I had from the sky. But they’d given me a direction the projectiles had come from, and it was a distance my range covered. Three people on a rooftop, carrying large guns.

 _“She’s here,”_ one said as bugs started moving as a mass from the shadows.

A woman pulled out a grenade from her pocket and rolled it on the ground. The small swarm split apart as the grenade detonated, letting out a mist that stuck close to the ground. All the bugs on the ground were killed but that was nothing to gnats in the air. I went for the nose, mouth and ears, finding that they were wearing masks that covered half their faces, goggles to cover their eyes and a material sticking to their skin where it was uncovered. No places to bite. I started pulling out more bugs, having them spread apart so they wouldn’t be killed by a mist-grenade.

The bugs got on their clothes, finding that the ends were tapes, making sure that no bugs could get through. I started having my bugs bite into their clothing, but it was taking too long.

The Swarm sighed. “I think _I_ might be the target,” she said. “They’ve protected themselves totally against me.”

“Fuck,” said Spider-Man.

“But this doesn’t change the plan,” I said. “Let’s move.”

We moved as a group while I still focused on taking in everything. I was moving bugs through my range, silk lines and spiders being carried across all the places I would have to fight, keeping track of the vans and the three as they were moving; other bugs were on rooftops and in apartments, checking anyone that was awake and looking out a window. They had a good operation from the looks of it, they were _smart,_ which meant that they wouldn’t just bank on the drones, they’d have other means of surveillance.

They had resources and they had good numbers. They had _money_ if the tech they had was anything to go by, which didn’t make sense for a new group. Maybe they were mercenaries? It would make sense that people were scared of us, scared of the Swarm’s power and they’d hired people to take us out. If that was true, then Spider-Man and I were putting people in danger by being here.

I took a breath and let it out.

Thinking like this was self-centred. All that I had now was conjecture, putting in the pieces so I could be at the centre of everything. They’d protected themselves against the Swarm because it was the smart play in any place that had me in it. They could have had another target and, through chance, I’d been here and they’d been forced to take me out, forced to move around. I had to think about the greater narrative I’d crafted, that the Swarm was ever present.

A part of me wanted to test that. It wanted us to show our position, moving away from the officers and paramedics so we could see who they’d follow. But the chance something wrong might happen was too great, I couldn’t sacrifice these people, even if some of them had been trying to break into an ATM.

The crime wouldn’t fit the punishment.

I tracked the paths of the vans and they were moving with us. I hadn’t spotted others on the rooftops and the people who were still awake were just too many. Maybe using cameras around the city? There was just…my heart stopped as the implications of this came to mind.

I reached into my costume and pulled out my phone, calling Ned. It took a bit before he answered, time that my heart was at my throat, heavily beating.

 _“Hey, Taylor,”_ he said.

“I need you awake and alert,” I said. “Something’s going on.”

 _“Awake,”_ he said and I heard rustling. _“What’s going on?”_

“We’re being chased by people,” I said. “We don’t have enough to know who they’re chasing, but they’ve got tech and they’ve got numbers, and they’re protected against the Swarm.”

_“You need me to do some digging?”_

“A part of me thinks they might be using cameras around the city to keep track of us,” I said. “Which worries me a lot. I need you to call April, May and June to see if they’re alright.”

 _“On it,”_ said Ned. _“Give me a sec.”_ There was more shuffling and then… _“May? I thought you were Peter…Yeah, dialled the wrong number. No, that’s fine, I’ll call him you don’t need to get up. Good night. She’s fine,”_ he said to me.

I let out a long breath. “Thanks,” I said. The people who’d been on the roof had reached the ground, they moved to a car and got in, moving and driving vaguely in our direction. “Can you do that digging? These guys are too professional. I’d like it if we knew what we were dealing with.”

 _“On it,”_ said Ned. _“I’ll have to name-drop, though, if I want people to work with me. Even then I might not get anything.”_

“This is your stuff,” I said. “Do what you think is best.”

“Van in our direction,” the Swarm in the squad car said. “Headed straight for us.” The squad car turned into an alley, moving out of the way of one van, but moving closer to another, this one further away and having to change direction to get closer to us. 

The van chasing us kept moving straight, it passed the alley we’d turned into and turned to move in our direction a few streets over. They were getting intel of our movements, but they weren’t doing so in real time. Why and how?

“We’re being closed off,” I said. “Slowly, but it’s happening and I haven’t heard sirens yet.”

At least not with ears. I could hear a group of squad cars moving in our direction, six in total and somehow, they were missing the path of the vans. They were further away than vans were from us. The noose would close off faster than we would have our numbers.

Something caught my attention, the trio in the car had stopped moving in our direction and instead were moving to head off the squad cars.

“Warn our backup,” the Swarm said to Officer Waller. “They’ll have trouble incoming.”

Officer Waller began speaking into his radio but it was already too late. The car stopped at an angle and a man stepped out with a medium-sized gun. I’d had bugs moving through the guns, trying to chew at the wiring but it had been fortified, meaning I hadn’t had time to get through. The gun was pulled out, pointed and shot all in a breath. A pulse shot out expanded, covering an entire street. It moved through everything, passing over it and when it moved past the cars they just stopped _._ The man quickly got back in the car and moved off before the police knew what was going on.

“Our backup’s gone,” the Swarm said, her displeasure felt. “We’re on our own.”

“We’ll have to fight them,” said Spider-Man. “No other choice.”

“Yeah,” the Swarm muttered. “Pick up Lacewing and we’ll move. Officer, if we might need a gun.”

Officer Waller shook his head. “If I don’t get fired after this,” he muttered. He rolled down his window and held out his gun for Spider-Man to take.

Spider-Man came over to the ambulance, opened the door and pulled me out, the pair of us moved onto the rooftops and then towards the closest van.

***

Last I’d counted there’d been twelve people per truck, all of them with guns ranging from medium-sized to small. I had bugs on the van, it seemed that their tech didn’t kill bugs if they were outside, but the moment they came inside they were under the tech’s effect.

Two of those people were at the front, with the others cramped at the back, all of them ready for action. We couldn’t have them dictate the terms of this battle, especially if we wanted to make it go by so quickly that we could attack the second and third van without the others knowing.

Spider-Man pulled out between two buildings in a swing, shooting faster than he usually did and rocketing towards the van. He crashed into its side feet first and the thing spun a little, one side lifting and sending the van crashing against the ground. Spider-Man jumped off and then quickly swung in between buildings as cover before they pulled themselves together.

My bugs on the van started testing the waters again, hoping that their tech had been disrupted. It hadn’t. The front windows of the van had broken, letting loose some of the effect; it was weaker, taking longer before it killed my bugs.

I had bugs move inside the van and in there the effect was still strong. I heard speaking, but I couldn’t hear what was being said as my bugs died out. The people started moving, one of them pushing open the doors to the van. The effect in the van became weak enough that I could flood bugs inside without them dying too quickly, and I did, getting more of an image of what was going on.

They were dressed the same way as the trio, ends taped against themselves to keep bugs from getting in, hands were gloves and they were wearing masks. But through the accident rips and tears had formed and I was using those.

Bugs got into their clothes and started biting, moving towards hands so that they would bite every time they strayed towards their guns. There were grunts, attention being taken to kill off a selection of bugs, but it wasn’t enough to stop them. They started slowly getting out, eyes around them and their weapons held at the ready.

My phone buzzed and I picked it up.

 _“Peter’s on the line,”_ said Ned.

“You got anything?” I asked.

 _“No,”_ said Ned. _“Nothing that I can find, especially since you still don’t know what’s really going on. I’m talking to a few… ‘friend’s’ I’ve made that are helping me look into it.”_

 _“We can’t focus on that,”_ said Spider-Man. _“Give me something usable.”_

“They’re calling for backup,” I said, “and the vans are moving towards us, leaving the squad car and the paramedics alone. Either because they want to protect our guys or we were the real target.”

 _“Back up means more people,”_ said Spider-Man. _“We have to end this quickly.”_

“Swarm incoming,” I said. A large cluster of flying bugs moved towards them. I tried to keep the swarm behind buildings, using dark patches and shadows but they noticed. One pointed a gun and the swarm split apart. He shot and a pulse of blue light flew out, detonating and taking a small section of my bugs. Those that weren’t being taken out still moved towards them, forcing all of them to pay attention as they tried to take out my bugs.

I got silk lines in place, attaching them to arms and to guns, the lines stretching out in large extensions that Spider-Man moved to take. They kept firing, taking out my bugs, but more were joining in, moving forward and earning their fire.

 _“Done,”_ I said and Spider-Man pulled. All the guns were wrenched out of their grasps. He moved quickly, swinging out of cover and getting closer. Six moved to pull out grenades and found that they couldn’t, their grenades bound by silk.

I felt a pang of alarm because I didn’t remember consciously wrapping the silk around the grenades, but I pushed it back, instead focusing on helping Peter.

He fired strings of webs and pulled two off their feet, landed on the ground and shot a quick salvo of webs that caught three of them while others got behind cover. Some started pulling out knives, cutting at the silk around the grenade pouches, while others pulled out guns I’d missed, levelling them towards Spider-Man and trying to shoot him.

It wasn’t working. My bugs give Spider-Man cover and the guy was just too spry besides. He moved from building to building, firing webs and pulling people from the group, catching others and sticking them in place, worst of all, every time he moved he pulled at the network of silk lines I’d connected to their weapons, pulling them from their grasp and making sure they couldn’t get them again.

Less than five minutes and we’d taken them down. I was happy that I hadn’t had to use the gun.

“Trio’s here,” I said, but they were driving slowly. I’d layered a mass of bugs outside their windscreen, the same had been done to the two vans that were a lot closer. I had a swarm of bugs give Spider-Man directions while I made sure the people we’d caught were bound.

My swarm got into the car and summarily died as they activated their own sound thing.

“Break the window if you can,” I said. “It’ll mean I can have bugs on them.”

 _“Got it,”_ said Spider-Man, moving through the swarm I had in the air. He fell on the car hard enough to shatter the window and I felt as the effect of their tech spilled out of the car, hitting my bugs and starting to kill them, but I could have my bugs swarm in, strings of webs being pulled out and connected to Spider-Man who was already moving away.

They detonated their gas grenade, but my work had already been done, somewhat. Spider-Man moving meant their largest weapons were pulled out of the car and into the streets, clattering everywhere.

“You’re free to land,” I said. “They’ve still got grenades.”

 _“Sure,”_ said Spider-Man as he swung back, firing a web and sticking the driver’s hand to the wheel. The two others got out of the car, pulling out knives and taking battle-ready stances. Spider-Man fired two webs, the woman dodged while the man was caught, pulled close and slammed into a wall by Spider-Man’s kick.

The woman got up from a roll, threw her knife in Spider-Man’s direction before it caught a silk-line I’d attached to it and her, and fell to the ground. Spider-Man quickly shot her with a salvo of webs that stuck her arms and legs to her sides. The last man finally got out, but Spider-Man quickly caught him again.

“Two vans are moving towards each other,” I said. “Consolidating their forces.”

 _“They must still have people watching,”_ said Ned. _“Only way they know it’s safer to band together than keep moving towards backing up their people.”_

“Yep,” I said. “We’ll have to move. Get them before they get together.”

 _“Meet me there,”_ said Spider-Man, already moving in the direction. I took off, paying less attention to my body as I sent as focused a swarm in Spider-Man’s direction. The vans, I noticed, had their wipers on, killing the bugs and washing away the grit that was accumulating. I had ants get into the mechanisms of the wipers and it wasn’t much longer before they stopped working.

Spider-Man repeated the previous tactics, coming in high and slamming into the van hard enough that windows shattered. Unfortunately, this one wasn’t moving too fast and it didn’t fall over. These guys were on alert, guns coming out and pointing where Spider-Man had been only a moment before.

The Swarm moved forward earning their attention while I played things the same way, getting bugs with silk near so I could connect them to their weapons. It was harder. I hadn’t had time to swarm and bind these guys like the others and they had access to their grenades. They pulled out their gas grenades, forcing me to keep my bugs at bay so I wouldn’t lose them unnecessarily.

Spider-Man tried to swing close a few times, but they turned their weapons in his direction, forcing him to move away. The last van turned a corner, driving down the street towards us.

 _“You guys are quiet,”_ said Ned. _“Everything still alright?”_

“Running,” I said. “Spider-Man, pull back. More incoming.”

_“We’re just going to leave them?”_

“We don’t have a choice,” I said. “There are too many and the element of surprise is gone. I hear sirens, hopefully they’ll move away and we can get more information on them.”

 _“Priority should be getting me pictures of the other guys,”_ said Ned. _“See if they don’t have anything I can use to get more information. Maybe find out who’s sourcing them.”_

Spider-Man sighed. _“Fine,”_ he said. _“Pulling back.”_

“Pick me up,” I said. “The Swarm will keep hounding them, seeing if police can catch up.”

 _“No,”_ said Spider-Man. _“Better we be the ones that take care of this. Those guns are too dangerous. The police won’t know what they’re getting into.”_

“I’ll tell them,” I said. “Let them decide.”

 _“Sure,”_ he said. _“Activate the pack. I’m going to pull you.”_

I flicked it on and a web connected to me, pulling me along as Spider-Man passed by.


	23. Chapter 23

**Terrifying Trio**

**3.7**

“High quality goggles,” I said. I’d pulled them free and was looking them over. They were dark coloured, had stretchy straps that looked like leather except softer. I tried them on over my mask and though they had pull of them, they weren’t tight when they settled.

“Lace,” said Spider-Man. “Robbing people is bad.”

I snorted. “Pot meet kettle,” I said. “Can you pull off their goggles? I really like them. I want to make sure I get it right when I work with the dyes.”

Spider-Man sighed, moving to the prone people and starting to pull of their goggles.

“You know _you’re_ the one who opened the floodgates, right?” said one of the Swarm’s faces. There were a few settled around us, watching over the prone group while a greater swarm was moved above us.

Spider-Man sighed. “It’s why you don’t hear me complaining,” he said. “But it sends the wrong message, us looting from criminals.”

“It also means that we don’t have to waste money on buying things we can just take,” the Swarm said.

I focused less on her and the conversation she was having with Peter, and more on pulling out the knives all of them had and the holsters after seeing the quality. All of them were quality, sturdy.

“Knives too,” I whispered and the Swarm relayed the message to Spider-Man.

“We are _not_ taking the guns,” said Spider-Man. “This is evidence. I’m sure these guys will be arrested for having alien weaponry. That’s a law, right? That you can’t have them?”

 _“It is,”_ Ned said in my ear. _“It’s still being talked over, but there’s a provision thing about alien technology. There’s…something here about that sort of technology having to first be approved by the government.”_

I snorted. “That’s not going to do a lot of good,” I said. “It’ll just stall things. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire thing was scrapped, money finding the right hands.”

Spider-Man sighed. “Or maybe it could work,” he said. He laid the stuff he’d picked up on the ground, webbed it up into a giant ball, then connected it to his back.

“Found the thing,” said the Swarm.

Spider-Man was closer and he walked over, getting into the van.

I rifled through their grenade pouches, using one of the knives I’d pocketed to cut them free. I started looking over the grenades. They all round and with different coloured buttons. They were high tech and _beautiful_ which meant that they’d gotten them from an established source. The bits I’d seen of Vulture’s tech had had a kludge-chic to them.

“I don’t think these guys bought from the Vulture,” I said.

 _“Yeah?”_ said Ned.

I pulled out my phone and took pictures.

“We don’t have any pictures of the Vulture’s tech, but I feel like it wasn’t this style,” I said. “It was less streamlined, if that make sense.”

 _“Yeah, I get what you mean,”_ he said. _“Give me a sec?”_

“Sure,” I said. I moved around, taking more pictures of the technology and labelling them. They had an excess of grenades, relatively small; they each had earpieces, fitting so neatly into their ears that I had to have bugs pull them out.

“Wouldn’t take that,” said Spider-Man. The Swarm had been relaying what I’d been doing. “It might have a tracker and I might break it if I start pulling it apart.”

“Just taking pictures,” I said. “Did you find the thing?”

“Yep,” he said, he peeked out of the van. He was carrying something just over the size of a salad bowl, made of a grey metal and with a lid to it. “Might be a prototype. There’s like an opening and I’m thinking you can see the inner mechanisms.”

“We taking it?” I asked.

“I sort of want to for study,” he said. “But I’m scared there might be a tracker. That and if we take too many things there might be trouble with the police. Who are…?”

“Fine,” said the Swarm. “They’re talking about getting close though, which means we’ll have to wrap this up if we’re not going to talk to them. There’s just some people they’re waiting for.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we did?” I said to the Swarm. “See if things have changed? This might help things with our friend, the detective.”

The face grew shoulders and a partial torso. It shrugged. “We’ll vote on it,” said the Swarm. “Get our guy in the chair in on the conversation when he gets back.”

“Sure,” I said. “He’s still busy though.”

 _“You guys talking about me?”_ said Ned.

“Lacewing and the Swarm are having a conversation,” said Spider-Man.

 _“Isn’t that you just having a conversation with yourself?”_ Ned asked.

“Thank you!” said Spider-Man. “That’s _exactly_ what I wanted to say. It’s creepy.”

“You have no idea how easy it is,” I said.

“I can guess,” said Spider-Man. He took a breath. “I’m _for_ talking,” he said. “It opens up more doors than it closes.”

“Could you shut the _fuck_ up,” said one of the guys. _“Scum.”_

Flies moved towards him, stopping just in front of him. “Open your mouth again and you’ll have a fly down your throat,” the collection of bugs said. The man glared.

I took a step back, looking at them all and though there was a lot of anger, I could see a lot of hate. I’d seen this before, something like it at least, in conversation between the Undersiders and the Empire, when we’d been forced to work with them against Bakuda so long ago. Most of them were white, but not all of them, black, Asian and Hispanic, an uneven spread of men and woman, so it wasn’t gender.

“I think this might be an ideology thing,” I said.

“What makes you say that?” said Spider-Man, putting down his thing and coming closer to me, trying to see what I was seeing.

“A feeling I get, the same sort of feeling I got with the tech being different,” I said. It wasn’t exactly a feeling, instead it was using past knowledge. Here it was time spent working with the Empire in a formative time of my life, and the technology had been because I’d paid attention to tinkers and what they’d employed. I’d been able to note the styles and differences between Armsmaster and Defiant, Dragon, Kid Win and Tecton.

 _“Which was right,”_ said Ned. _“Just got pictures of Vulture’s stuff and they mostly glow in purples and blues, and they seem_ showy _that they’re alien.”_

“Okay,” said the Swarm. “Not the Vulture. Does this mean we have another player in the city?”

“Think if we asked them, they’d tell us?” Spider-Man asked, looking at me.

I shook my head. “No,” I said for Ned’s benefit.

“Police are incoming,” said Swarm. “Half a minute, maybe a minute away. I’ll lead them to the trio first so we can get more time.”

Spider-Man took a breath. “We should check on the drones,” he said. “See if we can salvage them for parts.”

“You aren’t afraid of trackers there?” the Swarm asked.

“They seemed similar, position of tracker will be in the same place,” said Spider-Man, “and they’re for parts, so I can just break them and take what’s useful.”

 _“Sucks that the same can’t be said for laptops,”_ said Ned. _“Do you guys think I could buy a new one? Higher end?”_

“We’ll have to look at our budget,” I said. “Maybe finagle things for an influx of capital.”

“Just noticed something,” said Spider-Man. “But we are talking way more than necessary. I know these guys are going to get arrested, but we’re planning right in front of them.”

“You guys have nervous energy,” said the Swarm. It had been a joke, speaking without even thinking but it made sense.

“Maybe we should stamp things down,” I said. “We don’t know who’s listening.”

We stayed quiet, which didn’t last too long before squad cars and sirens dominated the streets. There were thirteen in all and I could hear more still incoming. They weren’t just cops, there were also what looked like they might be FBI cars, though they weren’t FBI going by their jackets. The feds got out first, moving with purpose as they set things up, starting to cordon the area. Three people walked towards us, while the cops ambled in the background. Spider-Man used the time to get close to me, the Swarm did the same, forming a humanoid figure but keeping the faces, all of them tracking the people as they moved towards us.

“Spider-Man, Swarm and Lacewing,” said the man at the lead. White, broad shouldered and wearing combat gear. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Thanks,” Spider-Man taking the lead. “You guys aren’t cops.”

“No,” said the man. “We’re with the Advanced Threat Containment Unit or the ATCU. Taking over where SHIELD left off.” I opened my mouth the speak and the man must have noticed because he said, “But doing a better job.”

“Better is often subjective,” said the Swarm. “I’m sure SHIELD thought it was better than its colleagues before the Hydra influence was revealed.”

The man gave the Swarm a long look before his eyes moved on to Spider-man and then me. Slowly taking us in, maybe trying to hit the right spots to make sure we did what they wanted. His eyes settled on me.

“I haven’t introduced myself,” he said. “Agent Danvers. We know about your connection in taking down an up and coming mafia boss, the help with Madame Gao’s people.”

“You’ve been watching us,” I said.

“We make it part of our job to watch people of interest,” he said. “Seeing where it’s worth putting resources. With New York’s population density and how we think the Inhuman genes works, we knew it would only be a matter of time before they started popping up. When you took up being a calming element, we wanted to see how things would go.”

“And?”

“You’re doing good work,” he said. “But you could be doing better.”

“Is this you offering us a job?” I asked.

“This is us offering you resources,” he said. “You keep doing the work you’ve been doing. There’ll be rules and regulations, a bit of a shield as we try to get your cooperation more legal on a federal level, but you’ll be your own bosses.”

“No,” I said.

“No?” It took me parsing things from my bugs to hear that there were two voices, Spider-Man and Agent Danvers.

Peter’s voice in the thrum made me stop, think about my thoughts because he was the only person that I would explain myself to. Him and Ned because I didn’t want to take over, I reminded myself.

“This is an opportunity you can’t let pass,” said Agent Danvers, not looking at me but at Spider-Man.

“Quiet, please,” said the Swarm. “Lacewing, your thoughts.” I could see Agent Danvers’ expression work. I knew how he would do things; he would focus on Spider-Man because he’d wanted to accept, he’d hit at multiple angles and eventually Spider-Man would waver, finally accepting as more of what he wanted came to the fore. But there would be a price.

A part of me wished for the easier times with the Undersiders. I _knew_ how they would react: Tattletale would already know what I was thinking or know enough that her power would fill in the blanks. Bitch wouldn’t question it; she’d know I had a reason and she’d be comfortable with it no matter what it was. Brian…he would just go along. He trusted me less than Bitch did, but he still trusted my lead, and he knew the importance of not fighting amongst outsiders. Imp and Regent, when he’d still lived, would have found this funny, me being given all I wanted and having to turn it away, this guy who was the authority figure not getting what he wanted.

But that wasn’t the same here.

“I forget the specifics,” I said. “But there was this company, maybe it was in Chicago or something, but anyway they wanted to sell ice on a Caribbean island. The islanders hadn’t ever had ice, this was before fridges were a thing, and they didn’t want to buy this thing they didn’t know. So the sellers offered them drinks with ice in them, instantly the islanders were hooked.”

“The modus operandi of drug dealers,” said an agent. “Give them a sample to get them hooked, then gradually increase the price as they gain a dependence.”

“Making that parallel would have drawn lines,” I said. “I wasn’t willing to do that.”

“You think that that’s what they’re going to offer here?” the Swarm asked. “An offer of resources, a growing dependence and then…what?”

“Then they have us working the way they want,” I said. “Slowly, adding more and more stuff that we don’t notice until we’re not working the same way. Until we’re stuck.”

This was for Peter’s benefit, helping him form more of an understand of my thought process. I got the sense he was frowning, looking between me and the Swarm. There was more, I knew how hard it was to actually do good when working under an organisation, all the red tape we’d have to go through. It wouldn’t exactly be the same, but there would be that element there. Things needed to find a sort of balance and I didn’t think that that balance would be achieved with the offer here.

“We’ll have to talk about this,” he said, “as a team. I feel like there’s a lot I’m missing. Could you tell us about these guys? Anything you know?”

Agent Danvers nodded. “The Watchdogs,” he said. “They’re a hate group and they take Inhumans as their targets. Without having questioned any of them, we’re thinking that they wanted a high enough value target that they might gather followers. A boost in reputation.”

I let out a long breath.

“Hate groups are harder to deal with,” said the Swarm. “It’s hard to put them down.”

Agent Danvers hummed. I expected him to keep pushing on the resources he offered, telling us how they would make the task easier, but he didn’t say anything.

“Our presence here should force them to another city,” he said. “They’ve taken a hit, lost people and some expensive looking resources. They’ll have to regroup, reassess.”

“How long will you be staying?” I asked.

“Long enough that we’ll hopefully have your answer,” he said. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll get to work.”

We nodded and they left.

“Let’s leave,” said Spider-Man, “talk things out.”

I nodded and when we were on the rooftops, I told him to make sure they were still in range. I wanted to spy on them, get a sense of who they were.

***

“No?” said Peter. Ned was on speaker and I was devoting a portion of my attention on what the ATCU were doing. “Not even thinking about it, just no?”

“It would have been a trap,” I said.

 _“You mean you’d lose control,”_ said Ned. It felt like a punch to the gut, nothing held back. It was hard, but I appreciated it. It meant he’d taken my words to heart and he was pushing back.

“That might be true,” I said and sighed. “Fuck. That didn’t connect.”

“And since it does,” said Peter, “does that mean your answer has changed?”

I shook my head.

 _“I’m guessing that’s a no,”_ said Ned.

“It is,” said Peter. “Why?”

“Because I’ve still got the strong feeling it’s a trap.”

“The thing about hooking us with resources?” said Peter. “I get what you mean, but…restriction was something that was always going to be the case—”

 _“Restrictions are part of the law,”_ said Ned. _“It’s what we talked about when we talked about policy on how the Avengers should work.”_

I took a deep breath. “When I was talking about that, I was talking about the Avengers being part of the process that came up with those rules,” I said. “If they aren’t, then it doesn’t work because it doesn’t consider what the Avengers are dealing with. I don’t get the feeling that we’d have much of a voice in this relationship, especially if they already have us on the hook.”

“Back to control,” said Peter.

 _“Control is an important part of this, though,”_ said Ned, he sighed. _“But I’m wondering if we want it so much that we’re willing to give up everything they would get us?”_

I shook my head. “Resources shouldn’t be the driving force, here,” I said.

“If not resources, then what?” said Peter. “You’re moving goalposts all over the place. I don’t think you’ve considered accepting this deal.”

Something else that slipped through my defences, hitting me at the core.

Had I really been thinking about it? I’d been thinking about working with the police and these guys were just extension of that, but why did it feel different? Was it because I’d gone up to the police, I’d been the one leading and her it was the reverse?

I took a breath and slowly let it out, trying to find an answer and not succeeding. I felt as if my mind started slipping to the left, not answering the original question but other things coming to the fore. There was the threat that things would be like they had been with SHIELD, that they could have Hydra running them. But that could be true of any place, with it having members of Hydra making up their ranks.

It was weak, trying to move away from the original point than anything.

“I still don’t want to work with them,” I said. “I’m trying and…” I shook my head. “I keep thinking that this is some sort of trap.”

“Is there ever a situation where you could work for them?” Peter asked.

“Not with how things stand,” I said, loosening my filter and letting a stream of conscious leave me. “I want us to be on a better position before we take resources.”

 _“If we did work for them,”_ said Ned, _“how do you think you would deal?”_

“I don’t know,” I said. “But it wouldn’t be good.”

“It really wouldn’t,” said Peter. He sighed, running a hand over his mask. “Okay,” he said. “We won’t work for them. You’re with me right, Ned?”

 _“It would be good to have resources,”_ he said. _“But we haven’t exactly needed anything. We’re getting good money even if our gear isn’t Avenger level yet.”_

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m sorry about this.”

“It’s fine,” said Peter. He walked forward and gave me a hug. “Love you.”

“Me too,” I said, smiling. It was stupid, but it helped, the hug. Showed that there were no hard feelings.

“Let’s get home,” he said. “I’m wiped.”

 _“Let’s chat again tomorrow,”_ said Ned. _“I wanna go to sleep.”_

“Good night,” I said.

We spent a little time watching the people as they worked and left just after they did. I thought about following them but that would be making enemies. We started moving around to salvage parts of the drones, Spider-Man made sure there weren’t any tracking devices before we left for home.

“May’s awake,” I said. “Sitting on her bed.” Peter swallowed. He didn’t say anything. “At certain point it becomes torture.”

Peter shook his head. “She’ll try to stop us,” he said, “and if we don’t…” He shook his head again. “Let’s not. _Please?”_

“Let’s go out and then in, say we were at a party,” I said. “Ned called her, he was there too, midnight screening of a movie or something.”

He gave me small smile.

When we opened the window, it was a little too loud and May heard. She sagged at the sound, letting out a deep breath before a sob left her. My stomach twisted and my mind stopped. I thought about telling Peter, but it wouldn’t do him any good.

I’d have to find a solution, though. I’d done this to Dad and I didn’t want to do it to Aunt May.


	24. Chapter 24

**Theosophical Three**

**4.1**

“The Watchdogs are a thing and there’s chatter about them,” said Ned. “They’re a hate group that’s been there since the start, but things sort of got louder after Sokovia.”

He had his laptop in front of him while I was looking over the recoloured the goggles. The dyes hadn’t messed up the material, but I hadn’t gotten the colours right. We were sitting on the floor of Daniel’s place, angled so that Ned could watch Peter who was fighting with the projection. We’d been sitting for most of the day and Daniel still hadn’t gotten back.

Peter still didn’t know about Aunt May, and she’d acted as though she hadn’t caught us out at night, but there had been something in her eyes. It was the reason he’d agreed to do this. I just hoped that it would be feasible.

“They’ve done some high-profile stuff,” he said. “Attacking ATCU buildings and stealing some of their tech. They’re also linked to a few disappearances of Inhumans all over the country. But…” he frowned, quickly scrolling down. “There’s also reports that the ATCU might have something going on with the disappearances.” He quickly pressed, typing down a message. “I’m not sure if I trust that, though. The guy isn’t giving me proof.”

“Can you tell me about that? Your contacts?” I said. “Are they worth trusting?”

Ned shrugged. “I don’t know them,” he said. “But we’re a small community, if they send me stuff that isn’t true, I’ll bad mouth them to others and that’ll lose them their reputation. That’s worse than losing money because of the doors it closes. Most of the people I’m talking to were part of a group that was trying to get as much as they could about SHIELD even before the whole Hydra thing. Main thing they kept saying was that if an organisation works in secrets, it’s easy for them to get away with a lot. That’s mostly fallen apart, the leader sort of disappeared, but others are looking for something to do, I guess.”

“You have a network,” I said, giving him a light ribbing. He grinned. “Anything about Bakuto? I’m going to ask Daniel when he gets here but I’d like to know all that I can.”

Ned shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing public. He seems like an extremely private person, but it’s like most of the data has been erased, which is suspicious.”

“Or you’ve been hanging around Taylor too much!” Peter said. He was dodging in between a mess of golden threads, landing in a room whose dimensions were constantly shifting. He fired a salvo of webs but they were dodged by the projection, more threads forming and forcing Peter to dodge. “Maybe the guy isn’t important.”

“He’s a philanthropist who helps the homeless,” I said. “He should at least have _one_ story on him.”

“He also has a fight club,” said Ned, shrugging. “He could be hiding it because that might force the police in on the matter.”

“Or maybe he’s just using magic,” I said and shrugged. “When is Daniel getting here, anyway? I’m getting bored.”

“We could go to the portal room,” said Peter. He was grabbed by the threads. “Stop!” The threads flickered out of existence, but they’d already snapped so that they were throwing him against the ground. He quickly turned and landed on his feet. He let out a breath, wiping his brow.

“There’s a portal room?” said Ned as I said, “You know where it is?”

“I come here a lot,” said Peter. “I was lost once when I was going to the kitchen and I found it. Lose the work and maybe we explore wherever the portal goes.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” said Ned. “Won’t we get into trouble with Mr Drumm?”

Peter and I shrugged it off. “Daniel’s cool,” I said as Peter said, “He just told me not to walk into a volcano.”

We followed him, moving to the second floor and down a long hallway before we found them. Three doors pointed in three locations: one of them had a grassy field, mountains in the distance; the other had what looked like a salt like, incredibly dry and with the shimmers of heat in the distance; and the last a space clustered with trees. Peter moved up the third was, turned a golden nod with arcane writings on it. Each movement violently shifted the image.

“Are these still earth or other worlds?” I asked.

Ned frowned. “Other worlds don’t exist. Wait, do they?”

“I know about the mirror dimension but not other worlds,” Peter said.

“There are other worlds,” I said. “There’s magic that’s blocking my powers. I…oh right, Daniel.”

“What?” said Ned.

“He has something in the house that makes it hard to even consider bringing in bugs,” I said. “Guess it must be stopping me from pulling in bugs through the portal.”

“Maybe I can find a place that would have a lot of bugs,” said Peter. He turned the dial until he stopped on a verdant forest. “Let’s go in.”

“Let’s,” I said. Peter was the first to go through, checking around before coming back for Ned and me. The portal had been a little in the air, maybe to stop things from just moving through. Maybe these weren’t portal for teleporting, because Daniel could already teleport, and more for the aesthetic of having portals to other parts of the world.

I stopped thinking about it, instead taking in the bugs around us. The land was rich with them and I started feeling through them with my power, picking some bugs that seemed prime. Ned looking around, head up, trying to see through the trees but staying close. Peter had his web shooters out and he started to swing through the canopy.

“Just got a tarantula,” I said.

“What, really?” said Ned. “Where is it?”

“Give me a bit, it’s making its way here,” I said. “The thing is _huge._ ”

We spent a little time looking over the bug population that I was pulling in while we waited for the tarantula, when we did it was _huge._ It was a light brown colour, long legged and larger than my hand, maybe both my hands.

“That is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen,” Ned said.

“You hang out with a talking swarm of bugs,” said Peter, dropping and landing. “Can I pet it?”

“Sure,” I said. He did, slowly moving his hand over the spider’s body. I had it move. Peter didn’t even flinch. Ned scrambled back a little.

Peter snorted. “You are _so_ predictable,” he said. “Anyway, the big stuff isn’t scary. It’s the small things that you get to worry about. The things that can get into your ear and lay eggs in there.”

“Like all the fleas and ticks I’m feeling around this place,” I said.

“Fleas and ticks you’re keeping away from _us,_ right?” said Ned, shivering.

“Yeah,” I said. “Also keeping track of the things moving around here. You have no idea how many monkeys there are in my range. Also…I think there might be an anaconda.”

“What?” Peter and Ned said, different tones in their voices. “We have _got_ to get out of this place,” said Ned.

“Excuse you?” said Peter. “I think you mean we’ve got to check it out. We must be either in Brazil or India.”

“Likely Brazil,” I said. I had the tarantula jump on my chest, scurry along my back and then settle on my head. “The spider.”

“Taylor…” said Ned, shaking his head, hugging his body. “Sometimes…Just…Yeah.”

I gave him a smile. “You should see me when I’m covered in bugs,” I said.

“First night out she offered to do that to me too,” said Peter. “When we were laying out the ‘no to being infested with lice,’ she thought it was because I didn’t think it was fair and offered to get some on herself like it was no problem. I love you, sister,” he said, “but you’re creepy sometimes.”

“Quirk of our powers, I guess,” I said. “Because this one sometimes forgets which direction is down. More than once he’s almost fallen off a building. Jumped right off.”

“Really?” said Ned.

“Yeah and all of those times Taylor freaked me out with bugs,” said Peter. “Anyway, anaconda,” he said. “We going to check it out?”

“Please, no,” said Ned.

“I could carry you,” said Peter. “This iteration of webs can carry both of us.”

“Even with how strong you are,” said Ned. “I feel safer next to Taylor.”

“What?” said Peter as I let out a bark of laughter. “But…I’m more awesome than she is.”

“And for three blocks she knows what’s going on around her,” said Ned. “She has an army of bugs. We’re in a jungle which means she’s over nine thousand.”

“Lot of good bugs will do if we’re being chased by an anaconda,” Peter said. “I could just punch it. And I have heightened senses. I can hear, see, smell, taste and _touch_ anything that’s coming for us.”

“Taylor can multitask,” said Ned.

“I can—”

“Peter, Peter, _Peter,”_ I interrupted. He looked at me. “Stop fighting it, I’m awesome.”

He crossed his arms and pouted. “Well…whatever,” he said. “Stick to Taylor if you want to. I’ll be swinging through the trees like a monkey.”

He jumped up.

“Be careful of tree snakes!” I shouted.

“That was a joke, right?” said Ned. “There aren’t tree snakes?”

I shrugged. He took a deep breath, let it out and then squared his shoulders.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I said.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, though his voice was shaky. “If…if I’m going to be working with you guys then I need to be able to take danger in a controlled environment.”

“We’ll take it slow,” I said. “Careful. Let’s wait for me to get a good swarm.”

He nodded. I started paying active attention to the bugs in my range, which there were _a lot._ More than I was used to in the city without me having to gather them. They moved through the area, giving me a greater sense of everything. I made sure to keep to territories, so I didn’t disturb the ecology, but I was sure I had a good sense of the animal, even those not infested by bugs.

 _“Lots_ of snake,” I said.

“Any of them close?” said Ned.

“Yep,” I said and I had a bug form an arrow pointing towards the snake. It was hard to see, green and brown again the trunk of a tree, just settling. We got a little closer, but still keeping our distance. I had the forethought to get bugs to connect silk lines so it wouldn’t hit us if I lunged. The snake ignored the bugs, but the moment we were close, it was on alert.

“Selfie?” he said.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug. We got into the shot. The lighting was bad, the trees stopped a lot of sunlight from hitting ground, but there was the spectacle of everything around us that took away how bad we looked. “This is a security risk.”

“I won’t show it to anyone,” said Ned.

“I trust you,” I said. “Who I don’t trust is my idiot brother who’s chasing monkeys.”

We heard them, a loud cry that hit around us, making others take up the call. The sound of the monkey screams were a cacophony, coming from all around. It seemed to earn a reaction from the greater populace as well, some scurried while others hid.

I made sure to keep track of the portal as we moved, a swarm hovering through it so I could stop it from being closed. It hit me that we should have left a note or something that we were going through. It would be the worst sort of luck being stuck in the Amazon.

We found the anaconda, a long and thick thing, slowly ambling along and moving towards a body of water. We kept our distance, especially since the crabs I’d had moving in the water felt crocodiles or alligators in the water.

“Wonder if there are any people here,” said Ned.

“There should, right?” I said. “Natives?”

“I mean…I’d expect anyone here to have died,” he said. “This place is _harsh.”_

“Don’t doubt what can be done with the human—Peter’s rushing our way,” I said. “I think the monkeys might be…No, a person and they have powers. Let’s go back to the portal.”

“Should we run?” Ned asked, panic moving over his expression.

“Horror movie rules,” I said. “Running increases the chance we’ll fall. We’ll speed walk.”

I was already pulling in bugs, sending them towards the man while I made sure there was nothing in our path. I managed to have a few mosquitoes settle on him before he noticed something was amiss. I heard a chuckle and then he started moving faster, seeing clusters of bugs and dodging them, moving with a mobility that would have been impressive if my brother wasn’t Spider-Man.

Peter dropped, earning a squeak from Ned.

“I’m being chased,” said Peter. “A guy, wearing lion fur.”

“Native?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Too pale. I mean, he’s got a healthy tan, but it’s a _tan_. It’s not like the Brazilian shade.”

“But why are you running?” said Ned, voice shaky. “He could be friendly.”

I snorted. “Even _you_ don’t believe that,” I said “He’s close. Part of me wants to check out his deal.”

Peter looked at me, grinning.

“Okay,” said Ned. “You two adrenaline junkies can do that. I want to be safe back at Mr Drumm’s house.”

I couldn’t help chuckling at that. “Let’s suit up,” I said, shrugging off my pack, pulling out the goggles and the lower mask and putting them on. I pulled out the knife, setting it in a loop in my belt. Peter pulled out his mask and put it on. Ned used my balaclava to hide his face, but we still kept moving.

“This is overkill, though,” said Peter. “Us…right, the Internet. But would that even be a problem in the Amazon?”

 _“Stop_ being so calm,” said Ned. “We’re being chased by a maniac.”

“At least he doesn’t have a gun,” said Peter.

“Yep,” I said. “He’s closer, by the by. If you focus you should hear him.”

“I do,” said Peter. “And he can hear us. He says he relishes the challenge of chasing us. He says we’ll know the pleasure of being the quarry of Kraken the Hunter. What…? Kraden? Oh, Kraven. _Kraven_ the Hunter. You know, Kraven, there’s really no glory in hunting people…Right.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

“Guy’s a psycho,” said Peter. “Chair Guy, on my back.” Ned didn’t even question it, getting on Peter’s back. “Lace—”

“Don’t use our costume identities,” I said. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to run,” he said. “I’ll be back for you. Is the guy far enough that he won’t be able to catch us before I make it back to you?”

“Barely,” I said. “But our shaker can stall him.”

Peter nodded. “Be right back,” he said and he jumped, firing a web and then swinging off. I started settling at a jog, this time all out attacking him with my bugs. Where before he’d been able to dodge because I’d been trying to use subterfuge, this time it was harder.

A mass of bugs moved towards him. He stopped, trying to run away but there were already bugs behind him. He chose to move through them in an effort to get away which meant he tripped over silk lines I’d put on the ground. He was agile, rolling and jumping to his feet, still moving towards me but spiders had settled on him, starting to move to bind his weapons in place.

I sent some of the bigger tarantulas towards him. He pulled out a knife and threw, missing because the things were agile, firing webs and then swinging away. Curling so their bodies were smaller, dodging the knives thrown towards them, all of them moved in evasive manoeuvres, gradually getting closer to him. He ran up a tree, fingers digging into the bark and quickly let go as bugs under the trees surged out, moving all over him.

He fell, spun and landed on his feet.

“What are you?” I heard him say, a thick Russian accent to him.

“I am the Nightmare,” the bugs whispered, “the Ancient of this land. The Grand Protector.”

“You are protecting the kids?” he said.

“I protect all that is within my realm,” the bugs whispered. “I have watched you, hunter, and I am displeased.”

“I am the hunter,” he said, heat in his voice. “Follower of the old rules, that of predator and prey. I am the ultimate predator. This should not displease you, Ancient.”

“And yet it does,” I said. Peter arrived and I motioned for him to stay quiet. “Leave, hunter, or you will face my wrath.”

I pulled the bugs away as Peter and I moved quickly away, going back to Daniel’s place and then switching the portal so it faced away from the Amazon.

“Keeping the bug, then?” said Peter.

“What?” Oh, right, the tarantula bigger than my hands was still on my head. “Guess so,” I said. “Can’t really throw it away, can I?”

 _“Weak,”_ said Peter. “You could just open the portal and you know it. May’s not going to be happy about having that thing in the house.”

“I can hide it,” I said. “It can be our mascot.”

“You guys are crazy,” Ned said, but he was grinning. _“That_ was crazy.”

“Guy’s probably questioning his life choices right now,” I said. “I unsettled his reality. Made myself out to be an old god and said I wasn’t a fan of what he was doing.”

“How’d you manage that?” Ned asked. “Right, _Amazon._ Thinking back on it, without the panic, there was really no reason for us to run.”

“Master SOP,” said Peter. “They get their distance in a fight, letting their minions fight for them.”

“Does that mean you’re my minion?” I asked.

“Just going to ignore that,” he said. He pulled off his mask, running a hand through his hair. “Daniel not home yet?”

“Don’t have any bugs here,” I said.

“Yet _he_ managed to get in,” said Ned, pointing at the bug on my head.

“Maybe because I honestly forgot about it?” I said and shrugged. “Let’s not question it. Kitchen then look at pictures?”

“You guys took pictures?” said Peter.

“We weren’t chasing monkeys,” said Ned. “We had our priorities in order.”

“Maybe another trip?” said Peter. “I want to get in on pictures.”

“Nowhere dangerous,” said Ned. “The field looked nice.”

Peter shrugged and we walked over the field. It was calmer, not much in the way of foliage or plants. An hour spent walking around and we saw the first signs of life, sheep moving through the nipping weather. It wasn’t much later that a pack of dogs was chasing after us.

There were enough bugs that I could have stopped it, but it was exhilarating in a stupid way.


	25. Chapter 25

**Theosophical Three**

**4.2**

“This is really good cheese,” Peter said, mouth full and chewing.

“Expensive stuff,” Ned said. He, like Peter, talked with his mouth full.

“You guys are gross,” I said, making sure to swallow before speaking. I took a sip of my orange juice, taking a glance at my phone. We’d arrived here late morning and Daniel hadn’t been here, our trips through the portal had meant a good three hours spent gallivanting. It would have been a waste of a Saturday had it not been fun.

“Tell that to the spider on your head,” Ned said. He looked at his phone, scrolling through it. “Oh, we made the news.”

“Yeah?” I said.

He nodded. “Most of it is about the Watchdogs,” he said. “But people noticed things going down last night. The Swarm being taken out, the van that crashed and all the feds in the area. A lot of this article is asking how something like this happened when the Avengers are here.”

“Not that they would have been able to do much,” I said. “Avengers can’t exactly arrest anyone.”

“People won’t see that if they want to complain,” Peter said, his mouth still full of food.

“Got that right.”

“Something’s happening,” Peter said, getting to his feet, a moment before I spotted it. In the middle of the kitchen a ghost had appeared: it was a humanoid figure, without any distinguishing features, and yet there was the general cast of a person. The ghost flickered in quick succession, each flicker causing more colour to bleed into it.

It turned in our direction, and now it looked like Daniel except different. He wasn’t wearing his usual get-up, instead he was wearing a skirt made from animal pelt, bands of the same nature on his wrists and biceps, and he had white lines painted on him, running to his face and painting skull-like mask. The process took maybe a second before it solidified and the man, surely not Daniel with how he stood, lazily leaning against his stuff, was finally there.

“My brother,” he said and he had an accent, hints of French except with personality. “Where is…he?” His eyes glowed a yellow colour and he’d looked at me, quickly shifting to look beyond me. His staff moved up and was about to hit the ground before a web connected and pulled it out of the man’s grasp. Peter caught the staff, hissed and then let it drop.

The man pursed his lips, looking at his staff, then Peter and then me.

“That was unneeded,” he said.

“Dunno,” said Peter. “You see Gandalf about to attack, the first thing you do is take away his staff.”

He hummed. “Clever,” he said. “But then, everyone has thought this.” The man didn’t do anything I could see, but his stuff appeared in his hand, flickering as he’d done when he’d been teleporting into the room, but muchfaster.

“I already had protections,” he said. “My apologies. In truth I would have acted against you. Put you to sleep.”

“Why?” I asked. I hadn’t moved because I felt _naked._ I still had the tarantula, but beyond it, I didn’t have access to any weapons. My pack was at home, my knife was in my bag, and I didn’t have any bugs on me. I could _fight_ him, but that would be a losing battle when I’d specialised on augmenting my fighting ability with bugs.

“I think you know,” he said. My heart started beating faster, my throat going dry and my body forgetting how to work. I centred myself by feeling the variety of sensations on the tarantula. He’d been looking at me as he said that, but his eyes quickly moved away. “You’re trespassing,” he said and it sounded accusing.

“We were just waiting for Mr Drumm,” Ned said, his voice shaky. “I _told_ you guys he’d mind us being here.”

“I’ve been here _loads_ of times and Daniel hasn’t minded,” said Peter. “I don’t trust this guy. Daniel never said he had a brother, much less a twin, this could be a magic doppelganger thing.”

The man smiled. “If that were the case and I successfully passed through the defensive magic in this place, then it would already be over.” He walked towards us and we collectively took a step back, my spider moving so it stood in front of us, ready to jump towards him.

The man shook his head, kept walking but angled so that he was moving towards the pantry. He put his staff aside, opened the pantry and walked in. He spent a moment in there before he came out carrying a bag of potatoes and put them on the floor. He went in again, coming out with other veggies: Over a dozen pumpkins, bags of onion and carrots, even pulling out a butchered pig that had been in there. He didn’t put that down, instead carrying it over his shoulder.

He picked up his staff and then tapped it against the ground. A mist spilled out, sticking close to the floor and starting to draw up a circle. The moment the circle was done, the mist settled on the floor, turning into paint. The man, along with his stolen food, started flickering like before except in reverse, colour bleeding out.

He disappeared.

“Okay,” said Ned, “that was weird, right?”

I shrugged, feeling a little calmer. I let out a chuckle. “I don’t know,” I said. “I can totally see Peter doing that when we’re older. Coming in and stealing my food.”

Peter gave me a look and he snorted. “Of the two of us, _you’re_ the one who’s going to be stealing food,” he said. “I haven’t _once_ heard you talking about a job when you’re an adult. While I know what I’m going to do.”

“What are you going to do?” Ned asked.

“Work for Iron Man,” he said. “Maybe start my own company if I can. Make inventions. If we’re being honest, I could already patent my webs if I wanted to, sell the rights for people to use them, but then it’d only be a matter of time before someone developed a dissolving solution.”

“I…” I started and then stopped. When I thought about it, I couldn’t really imagine myself at a job, at least one that didn’t involve my powers. “Yeah. I can totally see myself mooching off of you.”

“So that was just mooching?” said Ned. “Why did he have to be creepy about it?” Peter and I shrugged. Ned shook his head. “You guys are too used to danger. I feel like things don’t faze you anymore.”

I gave him another shrug, glancing at my watch and sighed. “At some point we’re going to have to give up,” I said.

“Probably should have asked the Doppelganger-Drumm if he could help us,” said Peter.

 _“Or_ we could go to Kamar-Taj,” I said.

Peter and Ned looked in my direction. “Is it close, can we just go there?” Peter asked.

“There was a door here somewhere,” I said. “I think it was on the third or fourth floor?” I shrugged. “I just remember the door, it was really big and ostentatious.”

“Clean up and then go?” said Peter, looking at Ned.

Ned took a deep breath. “You know,” he said. “Mom warned me against friends like you guys. You’re the sort of people who’d expect me to follow you if you jumped off a bridge.”

“Ned, we _have_ jumped off a bridge,” Peter said.

Ned scowled. “You know what I mean,” he said. “Won’t they freak out? Us just going there without even making an appointment.”

“We won’t know until we try,” I said. “The worst thing they could do is just turn us away.”

 _“Well,”_ said Peter. “I mean they _do_ have magic, so that wouldn’t necessarily be the worst thing they could do.”

“I was talking about temperament,” I said. “It’s doesn’t gel with what I know about them that they’d do anything worse. Let’s check it out, it could mean maybe getting in some patrol if we finish in time.”

“I’m not the one you have to convince,” said Peter. “I’m not going to say no to an adventure.”

Ned let out another long sigh. “I hate that peer pressure is a thing,” he muttered. “Yeah. Okay, let’s do it.” But he was shaking his head. “Mom ever finds out about what I did today she’d kill me.”

It took us the better part of an hour before we found it, the large set of wooden doors. They opened as we got close and we walked into Kamar-Taj.

***

These portals were different from the ones we’d used to go to the Amazon, likely an older magic because of how it felt. Moving from Drumm’s house to the Amazon had been seamless, akin to moving through a portal. But here, I felt as we passed through a membrane, felt a tingling over my skin that told me that _something_ was happening.

Of course, this quickly was pushed to the wayside because I was focused on Peter and Ned as they looked around, heads craning to take in every part of the room. There were two other doors, a podium of sorts with a globe in the middle, to our left a hallway with fires that flickered to life at our arrival.

“This way,” I said and they followed me. Unlike Drumm’s place, there were no protections against bugs here. I could feel the sudden wealth of information from my bugs, get a sense of the people all around us, how they moved, how they were talking and how I didn’t understand a word that was being said.

I felt out the bugs that were most useful and sending them closer, the tarantula moving so that it was hiding in my backpack. It was night and most people were sleeping, but I could still feel a few people moving, both inside the facility—whose dimensions were warped so it was so much bigger than it was one the outside—and out.

“Where do you think we are?” Peter asked. We passed our first window, looking out into the surrounding city or town. The buildings we could see were shorter than Kamar-Taj, brightly coloured, and a majority using candles as a form of light. I could see a few people who were wearing what looked like religious clothing, sitting in meditative trances.

“Nepal,” said Ned.

“How do you know?” said Peter, turning towards Ned. Ned brought up his phone.

“This place has surprisingly good, _free_ Wi-Fi,” he said. He quickly pressed his phone and then stowed it. “Countermeasures,” he said.

“Countermeasures?” there was a bit of levity in my voice. He only shrugged. We kept walking, with me using my bugs as a guide to find the nearest person who was alive, simultaneously getting a sense of all the rooms inside this place.

I felt someone moving towards us, walking with purpose.

“Someone’s coming,” I said.

Ned took a deep breath and the slowly let it out. We kept moving, turning when we needed to until we rounded a corner and saw the person coming for us. A woman, mid to late twenties, purple hair in a ponytail. She looked at us, looked at _me,_ stopped and then took a step back.

“Visitors,” she said. She was trying to make her voice light, I could tell, but she wasn’t exactly succeeding. “At this time of night?”

“Afternoon where we come from,” said Peter.

“Sorry if we’re disturbing you, we can just come back,” said Ned. He grabbed me and Peter, starting to pull but we didn’t budge. He stopped, because even if he was scared, he didn’t really want to leave. The pull had been half-hearted.

“It’s…fine,” the woman said. “All are welcome in Kamar-Taj. What do we owe the pleasure?”

“We were looking for Daniel Drumm,” I said. “Or, if not him, then maybe some information, maybe a bit of magic to help us out of a pickle.”

“Maybe you can help,” said Peter. He took a step closer and the woman stepped back, perhaps unconsciously. Peter stopped, frowning. The woman frowned as she noticed what she’d done. “Or, not, if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head. “I…” her eyes flickered to me and she swallowed. Peter and Ned didn’t miss it. I stood stock still, because she might just ruin things for me if she said the wrong thing. “...was on a mission, on a parallel world. One of the threats we faced had your face. I’m sorry, but it’s hard to separate the two of you.”

Peter crossed his arms, looking at me. He frowned, a spark of anger shining through his eyes. “Well, maybe get us someone else?” he said, tone nippy. “You’re not going to treat my sister like crap because of alternate universe decisions.”

The woman looked at Peter and then me. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said. She took a step back. “I’ll be right back with a Master.”

She quickly walked away.

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out, feeling a bubbling in my stomach and the intrusive thoughts starting to come to the fore. Before I could really think on it, Peter interrupted me with a one-armed hug.

“I know you and you’re probably going to let it bother you,” he said. _“Don’t._ It wasn’t you. It could have been you, but it wasn’t. You’re better than alt-you.”

 _I’m really, really not,_ I thought but didn’t say. It would be too much. I only gave him a small smile, but I didn’t put much into it.

I chose to focus on the woman’s movements, on the movements of the bugs that were giving me a better image of this place. There were a few people who were sparring; another who was calling up those symbols of theirs, throwing them and having water spurt out; there was another who was working in forming illusions.

We started walking after the woman, taking the same general path. I felt her as she stopped, talking to another person, a man on the larger side. I collected enough bugs that I could hear them, enough bugs that I could talk to them, enough bugs that they noticed.

“Ah,” the man said. “Our _guest._ You’ve done your duty,” the man said. “I’ll take it from here.”

“As you please,” the woman said. She pulled at her side, moving her other hand in a circular motion and I felt a different place, a different set of bugs. She walked through and the portal closed.

“I assume you can hear me?” the man said.

“Yes,” the bugs said. “My brother should be able to hear you too. Right, Peter?”

“Yes,” said Peter. “But Ned can’t. You might want to relay the conversation.”

I gave him a nod, pulling out bugs and having them drift in front of us as we kept moving. I pulled up more bugs, serving as relays for Peter and Ned if they wanted to join the conversation.

“You can speak and he’ll hear,” I said. “Relaying on his end.”

“This would be so much simpler if we just called,” said Ned.

“I don’t have a phone,” said the man. “I find I don’t often need it. Why have you decided to visit us?”

“We were hoping for a favour and some info,” said Peter. “Taylor wants to learn more about Chi, or practitioners of Chi, and we were also hoping for illusions to leave behind when we’re out on patrol.”

“Chi users,” said the man. “How do you mean? Active use or incidental?”

“Maybe active? There was fine control,” I said. “They’re able to call up shields, increase their senses, I think, and increase their strength.”

The man hummed. We turned a corner and saw him for the first time. On the larger end, Asian and with his hair cut short. “K’un-Lun is the only place I know with active use of the Chi arts. But it isn’t out of the question that it should be learnt incidentally.” He smiled. “Introductions. Master Wong,” he said and he bowed.

“Peter, Taylor and Ned,” my brother said.

“Yes, I’ve watched your exploits,” he said. “One of our students is American, from Brooklyn, and she holds a great interest in your growth.”

“That’s good, I guess,” I said. He was reacting much better than the woman before, which put me more at ease. But I could see in his eyes that he knew who I was. It unsettled me, not sure how to think, not sure how things worked around here regarding my secret.

I was all at once aware that I hadn’t really thought this through.

“I could give you access to the library,” he said. “Everything we have about the Chi Arts, though it’s unlikely to be much from the little I remember. And the other matter, the illusion, it shouldn’t take more than a few hours, though it will be limited.”

“We just really need it to sleep,” said Peter. “React if someone walks into the room, that sort of stuff.”

Master Wong nodded. “Achievable,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “You’ll need three?” Peter nodded. “Follow me to the library.”

***

“There are a lot more forms of magic than I thought,” Ned said. “Even _potions_ which seems like it shouldn’t be the case, but it is.”

He and Peter were reading more generally on magic, while I was reading with focus, paying attention to the small amount of information that they had no magic. From what I could read, it was less from speaking with the people of K’un-Lun, the go-to people on Chi, but spying on them.

“There seems to be common ground between all of them in astral projection though,” he continued. “Whether done through meditation or induced through a high. Voodoo seems to like the high, special herbs in ceremonies, with chants and dancing. Wakanda seems to do the same with a special root, though there it’s restricted to royalty.”

“Astral projection…” said Peter. He quickly leafed through his own book and then stopped. “Part of the parallel dimensions thing. Apparently, just left of us, is the Astral Dimension or Plane, or the Thought Dimension. You can leave your body and the mind can access this dimension. It could be really useful for surveillance.”

“What’s the catch?” I said, not looking up from my own book.

Chi was interesting in that it didn’t really need to be taught to learn it, instead at a certain point the body started using it. Masters of meditation who found that they had a greater control of their body was because they’d tapped into Chi, or Martial Artists that found they could punch harder than should humanly be possible or the Gurus in India who could do such things as hypnotise snakes or not take injury while piercing themselves.

“Of course _you’d_ say that,” Peter muttered, reading intently on his book.

It seemed, with Chi, that there was a certain point where things just clicked. Train hard enough, with an added bit of spirituality in there, and you’d just wake up feeling different. But more often than not, the added sense of Chi was specialised. If you focused so much that your body took damage differently, then that was the only thing your body could do with Chi.

The people of K’un-Lun had managed to train so that they could achieve different ends. The texts didn’t know exactly how this was achievable, how this knowledge had been received, but at its greatest, a Chi practitioner could fight and win against a Master in the Mystic Arts. Of course, all of that had been before some war, and now there was only one person of interest when it came to Chi practitioners: The Iron Fist.

“Fuck,” said Peter. Ned and I looked up. He glared at me. “You were right. There are some people that access the Astral Dimension to avoid death. Their bodies die, but their minds still live in there. It says here that taking over a body is hard; the body has some resonance with the ‘soul’ of its owner so the invading party would be pushed out. But if you leave your body too long, then it’s possible you’d lose that resonance enough that you’d have to _fight_ the invader, and if they’d been there for a long time they could just oust you.”

“Scary,” said Ned. “So _no on_ trying that out?”

Peter snorted. “No instructions,” he said. “Just the theory. I’d be _so_ bored at this stuff if it didn’t have the novelty of magic.”

“Yeah,” said Ned. “I think most of this stuff has to do with energy from other dimensions. I’m reading here and there are these spaces where stuff can slip through, these dimensional rifts. Some of them are abstract, hitting a patch of earth and letting in ‘mystic’ energies. There’s one in Jamaica that helps in making plants that increase strength, another one in the Amazon, a few places in Africa, and a few in Russia.”

Peter looked up.

 _“No,”_ Ned said. “We’re _not_ looking for dimensional rifts.”

“Oh, come on,” said Peter. “It would be fun. An expedition—”

“One liable to have you cast out into the greater multiverse,” a voice said and I started, turning. It was the Ancient One and I hadn’t even felt her come in. She stood, tall, pale and bald. She was smiled a light smile, but there was a cold calculation in her eyes.

“Yeah,” said Peter. _“Adventure.”_

The Ancient One frowned.

“Thank you,” said Ned, vigour in his voice. _“Thank you._ You see,” he said, looking at Peter. “A stranger is confused by you.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be since you’re this one’s brother,” she said, referring to me. “I’ve come to understand she has a knack for going for the insurmountable.”

“I’ll choose to take that as a complement,” I muttered under my breath.

“In certain circumstances it is,” she said. “You wouldn’t have been worth my interest if it weren’t.”

Peter frowned, he turned towards me. I could guess what he was thinking, earlier ideas crystallising. Her words had sounded exactly like what a cult leader might say.

The Ancient One didn’t notice, looking down at the books we’d be reading.

“Learning about the Mystic Arts?” she said, giving me a look.

“We have villains that use magic,” I said. “Chi. We’re learning all we can about what they can achieve, and a greater general understanding of magic if we come across it.”

“No need to explain,” she said. “No knowledge is forbidden in Kamar-Taj, only certain practises.”

“No Dark Arts, got it,” said Ned, letting out a nervous chuckle.

The Ancient One smiled as she looked at him. “You have no power,” she said. Ned frowned. The Ancient One crossed her arms behind her back, giving Ned a sharp look. “How do you deal with this, then? Having friends who can do such incredible things.”

Peter wanted moved to say something but a _look_ from the Ancient One stopped him. I stayed still, but bugs were gathering, moving to our position; spiders were drawing out silk lines and passing them out to my swarm. I’d tagged her, since she’d appeared, and now I was waiting on lines so I could start binding her arms to restrict her magic.

 _This is not a fight,_ I thought, but it didn’t matter. My power was reacting like a fight and it was hard to fight against.

“I…guess…because I don’t want to fight,” he said and shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “I mean, I’d like to have cool powers, but I get that I can do good without them. I _help,_ my input means something and that’s enough,” he said and shrugged.

“Quite mature of you,” said the Ancient One. She nodded. “My apologies,” she said, “if my question caused discomfort. I have a measure of the others and I don’t have a measure of you. I was interested at a peek of your mind.”

“It’s okay, I guess,” said Ned.

“Thank you,” she said. “I should leave you to your reading, then. You’re always welcome at Kamar-Taj,” and she left, the bugs I’d had on her slipping off as she moved.

“Creepy that she was watching us, right?” said Peter.

“Tell me about it,” I muttered.

“How old do you think she is?” said Ned. “With a title like the Ancient One?”

They were both looking at me. I shrugged, getting back to my reading, getting a sense of how the Chi Arts worked. There would be a meditation, getting in tune with the body, there would also a lot of pushingmy body to its limit.

“I’m wondering if I can learn this stuff on my own,” I said, because the little I’d read about Chi, I wanted it more and more. But working with Bakuto was something I was wary of, especially since it might be a retread of everything wrong I’d done at the start of my career. Knowing that something was unlikely to work out and going ahead nonetheless. Even so, a large part of me wanted the option of being a heavy hitter.

“You still want to go to Bakuto?” said Peter.

I shrugged. “I know it’s the dumbest idea ever,” I said. “I _won’t,_ but the option of being able to hit harder is…” I stopped, realising that this was _magic._ I’d have to talk to the Ancient One, wouldn’t I? But maybe if I hid it from—No. I had to remind myself that this was penance, that I was intentionally stopping myself at going for the bigger threats until I was sure I didn’t make the same mistakes as before.

Would learning to hit harder be part and parcel of that?

I let out a breath.

“What’s up?” said Peter.

“Gonna take a walk,” I said. Peter nodded and Ned waved me goodbye. I felt out with my bugs and found her in a room, meditating. I walked in her direction, finding the door open.

“You want to learn magic,” she said.

“That obvious?” I said. I sat in front of her, cross-legged and straight backed. I concentrated on my breathing while having a collection of bugs gather for my conversation. I closed my eyes, trying to let my mind slip.

“I have a good measure of you, I’d like to think,” she said. “Spent some time on your world, looking _back_ on the events that made up your life. It was to be expected, _this_.”

I felt my stomach twist. “Intrusive,” I said. “Doing that.”

She took a breath and let it out. “It is,” she said, “but I was taking a large risk in having you on this earth, it was worth being doing my due diligence.”

I let out a sigh, frowning. “At a certain point I’ll get tired of this,” I said. “I’ll chafe against the restrictions and…I’m fighting against it. I want to _grow_ but…”

“Growth isn’t something you can just decide to do,” she said and there was a sombreness to her voice. “It’s greater than that, taking more work than most are willing to put in.”

I sighed. “Yeah. Sorry, you were going somewhere, before I interrupted you.”

“Yes,” she said. “I’ve got a good sense of your nature and I knew at a certain point you’d want to grow stronger, but…a question, why do you want to learn the Chi Arts?”

“I want to be stronger,” I said.

“Dig deeper,” she said. “I want to understand you before I can make my decision.”

I let out a breath, conceptualising the question and what I wanted to answer. I wanted to be stronger, that was gist of it. I didn’t have any big threats and I wasn’t really thinking about them. I wasn’t thinking about saving the world because it seemed like there were competent people to handle that. Things were moving along in Queens, taking down the people that we could and working to so we could more effectively take people down.

None of it needed strength.

I didn’t _need_ to be strong.

I sighed. “There’s nothing there,” I said. “I just wanted to be stronger. It doesn’t have to do with anything else or taking down anyone else. I just want to be stronger because I want to.”

“You can learn Chi,” she said.

“I don’t understand.”

“As I’m to understand it,” she said. “In the past, I think you’d rationalised that you were doing it for yourself, the strength you gained, but it was to prove something to everyone else. Now, it seems like you’ve taken a step forward. I feel forbidding you from doing it would be a step back, or at least it might further strain our relationship.”

“That obvious too?” I said.

“I know you,” she said. “You hide it well, but you’re primed not to like a person of my status. Things are made worse because I’m your warden, holding you from your metaphorical freedom.”

I shook my head. “I understand it,” I said. “All of this, what you’re doing. It’s to be expected with the threat I was, the threat I could be if I made similar decisions.”

“Understanding and acceptance are two very different things,” she said. “One is a matter of logic, the other is a matter of the heart, of emotion. Emotion often trumps logic.”

“Don’t I know it,” I said, looking back, _really_ looking back and finding the emotion behind most of the things I’d done. I sighed. “I’m trying to meditate and it’s not working.”

“The key to meditation is letting yourself drift,” she said. “You spend so much time focusing on the impulses from your bugs that I think meditation enough to get a sense of the energies in Chi would be impossible.”

“Way to boost my confidence,” I muttered.

She gave me what felt like a knowing smile. “You’ll never be able to do it,” she said, stoking my sense to prove her wrong.

I chuckled lightly. “A part of me might be starting to like you.”

 _“Taylor,”_ Peter said. I turned my attention towards him. _“Master Wong’s here with medallions. He says they have the illusions.”_

“I think that’s it for today,” I said to the Ancient One.


	26. Chapter 26

**Theosophical Three**

**4.3**

The medallion was large and gaudy, cold where it sat under my shirt, and the rope chafing my neck. It was important, keeping it on, especially when we were asleep. Wong had explained that the medallions were learning about us. The process was extremely limited, but the longer we wore them, the better the illusions would be at passing for us sleeping.

I’d tested mine when we’d gotten back, put in on my pillow and stood back. The illusion had appeared, spreading over the bed so that the illusion was under the blankets. It had been me asleep, but I’d just stayed in place, the only movement being its breathing. Not the best, but they were supposed to get better.

“I’m not going to be able to wear this with my costume,” I said. “At least not comfortably.”

Peter perked. “Does that mean…?”

“It’s finally done,” I said with a grin.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” said Peter, jumping to his feet, homework or assignment forgotten. “We _have_ to go on patrol. Get people used to your new costume. Can I see it?” He glanced at his watch. “May’s not gonna be back for thirty minutes. Enough time for you to put it on.”

“That’s time you’ll be using to fit in the pack,” I said. “The costume’s not done _done._ There’s still layers I have to put together, but I want to make sure the pack is in alright and there’s the wings-cape, but I’ll fit those in later.”

“Edna didn’t convince you with the capes, huh?”

“Let’s see how it looks first, the feel of it, before we take her advice,” I said.

Peter shrugged. “I can do that now,” he said. “Fitting in the anti-grav pack.”

“And the homework?”

“It’s not really important,” he said. “Let’s got the costume done. I want to us to go on patrol tonight. Maybe our photographer can get pictures of you in the new getup.”

“I thought Ned was busy with a test or something,” I said as we went to my room. A cluster of bugs had already started pulling the costume out, spreading it apart on the floor. Varying shades of blue, dark going to light, with places which were white but they were sparse. I’d finally gotten the dyes right for the face mask and the goggles. I hated that the lenses were black but changing them would mean losing the prime material that made them. The stuff was _hard,_ likely not bulletproof, but it would take an impact.

“I notice the knife with the utility belt,” said Peter. He’d already started working, lining the wires in the right places and getting the battery so it was under the panelling I’d created to hide it. He had to disconnect some wires, reconnect them, but things were kept largely intact which meant we didn’t have to worry about going through the battery of tests like before.

“A safety precaution,” I said. “I don’t see a situation where I’ll be using it in a fight, but it’s worth having for other things.”

“Doesn’t that send the wrong message?” said Peter. “That and guns.” He looked up at me. “When we were fighting those Watchdog guys, you asked for a gun.”

I shrugged. “I don’t like them, but…” I sighed. “I’m not stupid. I know there are situations where it makes sense to have one. Fighting against an unknown group with unknown intentions, it was the safer option.”

Peter looked down, focusing on his work. “If…things had gone bad, the situation was desperate and there was seemingly no way out. Would you have used it?”

“You in danger? Without a thought,” I said and I shrugged. Peter didn’t look up, he was still working, but he was nearly done. “How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know,” said Peter. He sighed. “A large part of me is wondering how you even know how to use a gun.”

“Use my bugs to get a direction,” I said. “Means I never miss.”

“Sort of guessed that,” he said. “It’s more…” he looked at me. “I get the sense you know _how_ to use a gun.”

“That sounds like it wanted to be a question,” I said.

“It is, I guess,” he said. _“How_ do you know how to use a gun?”

I shrugged. “Stole one and practised,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because it makes sense?” I said. “I get that I’m powerful with my bugs, but that’s because people are still working on getting accustomed to my power. The moment they do, they’ll have countermeasures, as proven by the Watchdogs, and well…if push comes to shove, I might have to use a gun. It made sense to train myself how to use it properly.”

He nodded, putting in the final pieces.

He stood.

“Done.”

I started doing my end of things, having bugs working on the layers and then the spiders started weaving the layers together. My spider population had grown beyond what Daniel had given me and now they were working together and finishing off my costume.

It was beautiful to watch, even more spectacular feeling all the information running through my mind, the order of it all.

“You never told me about this,” Peter said. He sighed. “It’s like…I’m learning a lot of things about you. This other life that’s been hidden from me.”

“We’re different people,” I said. “It’s stands to reason.”

“Yeah, but…I didn’t think that we were _that_ different,” he said. He took a deep breath. “I just thought I had this idea of what you were doing and it seems I was _so_ wrong. It’s like…you’ve been planning things from the beginning.”

“The whole hero thing?” I said.

He nodded. “You’ve…” He took another breath and let it out. “You’ve been getting connections. I mean…you’ve been getting them in a _Taylor_ way, but you have. You pretty much have the interest of someone like the Ancient One.”

“Careful there, brother, you might be drinking the Kool-Aid,” I said.

“Maybe,” he said, “because I don’t think she’s that bad.”

“Yeah,” I said, looking down. “I’m starting to get that sense too, which scares me.”

“You’re paranoid, sister,” he said.

“You know this about me.”

He hummed. “Just…sometimes it helps to hear it,” he said. “So that you can look back on what you think and feel, see the logic, at least that’s what Su said.”

“Su?” I said. Peter’s eyes opened wider, starting to blush.

“It’s not what you think,” he said.

“I mean…you _are_ blushing,” I said. “That says something.”

“Not what you think it means. We’re not going out or anything,” he said.

“I didn’t say anything,” I said. “But I think it’s interesting that you’d say that.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going to be around you if you’re gonna be like that,” he said.

 _“Fine,”_ I said. “May’s coming, she just got into the building.”

“How do you know?” he said. “Out of interest? Do you just tag her?”

“Her perfume, I’ve narrowed it down,” I said. “Same for you, Ned and Su. It mostly works with flies, it’s too different for other bugs, but I’m working on cataloguing it across the spectrum.”

“Hey,” said Peter. “Can you do the bee thing?”

“Bee thing?”

“Like, bees are supposed to leave these pheromones behind when they die. You could do that to tag someone.”

“They don’t need to die,” I said. “I can have them release an alarm pheromone and track that. But there’s a few problems, it’s hard to tag someone with a bee, and there’s the problem that they might attract other hives and might get attacked.”

“That’s low probability, right?” said Peter. “How many bees can there be in the city?”

“You’d be surprised,” I said. “I’ve actually felt bees in people’s basements.”

“Really?”

“Really,” I said, giving him a nod.

“What did you do with them?”

“Nothing, well not personally,” I said. “If I did something then I’d have to take them somewhere else, which is its own hassle.”

“Could just kill them,” said Peter with a shrug.

“Could,” I said, “but there’s apparently a bee crisis? I only read about it in the periphery, decided to just let professionals deal with it.”

“Whatever,” he said. “Didn’t miss that you distracted me.”

“Did I?” I said and I shrugged. “If I did, it was unintentional.”

“Well.” He shuffled. “We sort of need to work through this, because…I don’t really know how to say this without it sounding like an attack, but…a part of me’s always scared about the stuff you’re doing that I don’t know about.”

“My hitch reaction is to say you don’t trust me,” I said, crossing my arms. “But that would be unfair.”

“You still said it, though,” he said, his arms crossing. He moved so he was leaning against a wall, giving me his full attention. “There’s been chatter, stuff being said about why the Big Man quit his operations.”

I felt my body tighten and looking at Peter I saw that he noticed.

“You scared him,” he said. “Made an ultimatum about guns, that they shouldn’t be a thing.”

I nodded slowly, swallowing. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out.”

“Because you knew I wouldn’t be up for it?” he said. “That it would be crossing a line?”

I shrugged.

“We don’t keep secrets,” said Peter. “We’re a team, that’s our entire thing.”

“I…it was before things with the Daredevil,” I said. “Still working on ‘adult’ mode and only thinking about protecting you. We’d just faced off people with machine guns, you could have died and I wanted to set the stage so that it wouldn’t happen again.”

“You threatened him?”

I nodded.

“Did you hurt him?”

I shook my head.

“Would you have hurt him if he hadn’t agreed?”

“Not then,” I said. “I’d invaded his home and hurting him there would be the worst thing in the long term, it would be telling criminals that they’re never safe and that might lead to them pooling resources with how powerful the Swarm is. But I would have been harder the next time we went against him, hit him so he would have a harder time of getting back up, both figuratively and literally.”

Peter nodded. “I don’t like it,” he said.

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

“But I understand,” he continued. “I could see myself doing the same thing if you were hurt. I…it was a smaller case, but, when that woman in Kamar-Taj was scared of you because of her own hang-ups, I thought about socking her one because of how she was making you feel.”

I shook my head. “Can we please not talk about that?”

“One last thing and then I stop?”

“Sure,” I said, my stomach twisting in knots.

“As I’m to understand it, multiverse theory applies and there’s another you out there that’s really bad,” he said. I knew where this was going and the twisting knots were getting tighter. I focused on May and how she was moving, focused on the neighbours and how they were moving, listening in on insipid conversations that they were having.

But it was a quirk of how my mind worked that Peter’s voice had more weight, that I valued it, and trying not to focus on him was so _hard._

“She made different decisions,” Peter was saying. “Maybe decisions that you could have made since you have the same make up, but there’s a whole lot of other variables in there, a whole lot of things about her environment we’re not factoring in.” He sighed. “Maybe it’s because I know you, know the person that you are, but I can’t help but think that there might be something more, y’know?”

“Yeah,” I said.

He let out a huffed breath. “I’m not doing this right,” he said. “But…you shouldn’t think that you’ll turn into her. You’re your own person, you’ve made decisions that haven’t led to them having to make the same decisions as alt-you did.”

I didn’t say anything.

Peter shifted.

“I know it sucks, especially if the whole reason they’re interested in you is because of her, because every time you talk to them it’s something you have to think about, but…”

Was that where his mind had jumped to? That the entire reason the Ancient One and her people were interested in me was because of the threat of ‘alt-me?’ It was true in a respect, putting aside that there really wasn’t an alt-me, instead there was a past-me, the real person the woman had been scared of.

“It doesn’t affect me all that much,” I lied, because it did. It was a constant reminder of the person I’d been. It was a reminder of how scary I’d been at the end. So scary that even with my power having reverted, the woman was still so scared she’d almost let Peter and Ned in on my secret.

Peter opened his mouth to say something but May was already at the door. It was unlikely she’d be able to hear us in my room, but it wasn’t worth taking chances.

“Okay,” he said and he gave me a hug.

“I hate that you can do that,” I said as he pulled away.

“You’re my little sister,” he said. “I’d feel like a bad big brother if I missed your tells.”

He turned and left, greeting Aunt May with an excited air. Even with the twisted knot in my stomach, even with the resurgence of everything that had happened with Scion, I was smiling, because I really loved my brother.

***

I pulled off the medallion and put it on my pillow. The air shimmered and the effect spread over the bed, putting up a me that was asleep. I felt as Peter did the same on his end, then slowly moving to the window and sliding it up.

It was smoother than it usually was, nearly silent as it opened. The same was true for me as I paid attention to how slowly I opened it. We were doubling down on our lie, setting up things so Aunt May wouldn’t find out, so she wouldn’t have to worry. It was…learning from what had happened with Dad, but I felt like I hadn’t _grown._

I was still doing the same thing, lying to a parent, but now I was doing it better instead of learning from the experience and not doing it to begin with. All the media I’d consumed was making me think that I’d learnt the wrong lesson, that past experience should have been telling me to tell the truth, but would that work for our benefit or cause further strain?

There’d been avenues on Earth Bet, things that might have meant being a hero while having Dad feel a little at ease. There were the Wards or maybe even being a corporate cape. Here, there was none of that. Aunt May learning about our secret would mean foisting our decision onto her, leaving her to deal with the stress of knowing we were going out there, fighting dangerous criminals and that there was nothing she could do about it.

“You ready to go?” Peter whispered, on the wall above me.

 _Sounds like you’re just rationalising,_ a part of me thought and maybe it was right. But that didn’t stop the rationalisations from sounding logical. Knowing that I was rationalising didn’t mean I felt like I had to go and talk to Aunt May.

“Lace?”

“Yeah,” I said, “let’s go.”

Spot clambered onto my back, settled over the raised nub that would clip on my cape, hiding the slight rise from the battery.

I could have, I realised as we moved, started the trip on Spider-Man’s back, but I hadn’t. I’d already made my decision and right now, I wanted to do what was easy more than what was hard.

I focused on my bugs, getting them into a healthy swarm that moved with us.

“Good,” I heard a voice say. “I was hoping you’d show up. Can we meet? I’m really hoping you can hear me.”

“Daredevil?” I had the Swarm say.

Spider-Man stopped, looking up.

“Yes,” Daredevil said.

“Daredevil’s here?” he said and I felt him tense.

“Yeah,” said the Swarm. “He wants to meet.”

Spider-Man let out a sigh. “Give me a location.”

The Swarm lead the way, roughly two blocks away from our house, on a rooftop. I felt my stomach churning because it didn’t make sense that this was coincidence, it made the most sense that he’d been listening in, figured out who we were and waited for us to go out. I had to wonder if this was the first time he’d been listening to us, which was its own sort of scary.

_A bit hypocritical, aren’t we?_

I chose to disregard the thought. He was waiting for us as we landed, the swarm settling into a humanoid form while a large portion of her was still in the sky, a shifting mass of faces looking in various directions.

Spider-Man stood straight, arms crossed, not the body language we wanted, but this guy was a thinker who could detect lies so it probably didn’t matter. Right now, I had the sense that his powers had to do with heightened hearing with how far he’d been able to hear us. I frowned, I didn’t exactly know _why_ I thought it was hearing when it could be a whole range of powers, but that was what my gut was telling me.

“You wanted to talk,” said the Swarm.

“Sorry,” said Daredevil. “I just…was hit by how young you are.” I didn’t know how it was possible, but Spider-Man stood straighter. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just…there’s been a lot and your age went fuzzy in my head.”

“If you’re here to tell us to stop being heroes then you can just leave right now,” said Spider-Man. “It’s not going to happen.”

“Is there nothing I could say that could convince you otherwise?” he said. “Because this job is _dangerous.”_

“It’s dangerous for everyone,” the Swarm put in before Spider-Man could say anything. The sense I got from him; it would have been an attack. “It’s dangerous for you as it is for us, yet you’re still doing the same thing.”

“I’m—”

“If you’re going to say older, stop,” said Spider-Man. “That argument doesn’t have merit.”

“It _has_ merit,” said the Swarm, more to Spider-Man. Spider-Man gave mea look. “But not as much as you think it does. Being young trends them towards being immature, but that’s not a measure of their skill, it’s not taking into account their training, their work on countermeasures in certain situations or the plans they’ve formed. With one word, one concept, you’re pushing aside their work, equating it to nothing.”

Spider-Man eased a little.

“Elektra’s dead,” Daredevil said. “She was skilled, had _years_ of training and she died.”

It was cold and clinical, a statement of fact, but tapping into my bug’s senses I could hear the nuances. How his voice was harder, how he felt a little off kilter with how he stood and the slightest edge of desperation in his voice. It was affecting him more than he was showing.

“I’m…sorry for your loss,” Spider-Man said.

Daredevil swallowed. “It’s…it was a lot of things,” he said. “But it showed me how dangerous this world was, that it isn’t for the young.”

“This is callous,” I said. “But,” I shook my head, “more than anything it feels like this shows how dangerous things are for everyone. You’re focusing on the things that you want so her death vindicates you. I’m thinking that you think that if we’d been there, that we would, without a doubt, have died. But you don’t know that. You can’t know that except if you have the right set of powers, and I don’t think that you do.”

No emotion. I felt sympathy, but it was an abstract sort of sympathy. Not enough that her death had the weight it seemed to have on Daredevil and Spider-Man. Things were worse because I was using bugs for cover, meaning most of the emotion in my voice had bled away.

“Lace,” said Spider-Man and there was reproach in his voice. I frowned. I’d missed something. Daredevil slumped ever so slightly, looking defeated. I had the sense that it was because whatever argument he’d been planning to make he knew it wouldn’t work, but maybe there was something else I was missing?

 _Fuck,_ I thought as it clicked. That would have sounded accusing wouldn’t it? Me telling him he couldn’t see the future. It reinforced Elektra’s death or maybe it was the way I’d phrased it?

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s…” he sighed. “What can I say to get you to stop? What can I do to show you how dangerous this is?”

“I’ll answer your question with a question,” said the Swarm. “Does your friend’s death mean you’re going to stop going out there? Are you going to stop being a hero?”

Daredevil slumped a little more before he stood straight. “Then let me help you,” he said. “Make sure that you’re better.”

“Mr Devil,” said Spider-Man, his voice gentle. “You _have_ to stop doing that. Stop reducing us to the number of years we’ve been alive.” I could hear the edge of frustration in his voice. “We have a _plan,_ we know what we’re going to do, short and long term. We’re doing okay. We don’t need your help. But, I think, we’d be willing to work _with_ you.”

“A partnership,” said Daredevil.

Spider-Man nodded. “With how you’re phrasing things, it feels like you’ll be the adult supervising us, and we don’t need two of those. We’re doing okay with the one we have right now. But we could do more good together than apart.”

“The entire reason we wanted to talk to you in the first place was because of trading information,” the Swarm said. “How you deal with perps, that sort of thing. But with how things played out, it set a dark cast to any working relationship we could have.”

He sighed. “So many mistakes,” he muttered under his breath.

“To err is human,” I said. “You just have to learn from them.”

“I don’t think I can stop,” he said. “It’s not going to be that easy.”

“Change isn’t easy,” I said. “But you have to be willing to work at it.”

“That’s true,” he said. “Can we get something to eat?” He pulled off his mask. “I’ve been out here are a while.”

“Spying on us?” I said.

He nodded. “This felt urgent,” he said. “I…it was intrusive, I know, but—”

“I get it,” I said. “It helps though, you doing this. Evening the scales if even a little.”

I didn’t know who he was, even with his mask off, but it was a face, and with a face I could find out. I appreciated the gesture.

He nodded.

“We should really get you something to eat,” said Spider-Man. “I feel like you’re going to topple over.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Theosophical Three**

**4.4**

“There’s this rumour I heard being passed around,” said Spider-Man. “It was after the Chitauri Invasion, _after_ Iron Man had sent the missile into the portal over New York, and the Avengers were just _drained._ They found this place, don’t know where it was and they just ate.”

Daredevil frowned, shaking his head. “I’m…not sure I understand,” he said.

“PR is an important part of this,” said the Swarm. “The whole hero thing. We have to look good for the public so there’s less resistance to what we do. In…areas such as Hell’s Kitchen, where the crime rate is above the norm, the way you operate might be acceptable, but the same things doesn’t work for Queens. We have to do things that make us more human, talking with people and making sure they have pictures.”

“Or just eating out in costume,” I finished. “That’s the short of it. The Swarm and Spider-Man are very good at talking around a subject.”

Daredevil tilted his head a little, angling it towards Peter. It hit me that _that’s_ why I thought it was his power was tied to hearing. He didn’t really look at people, instead he just tilted his head when something grabbed his attention.

“You should maybe stop doing that,” I said. “Angling your head when you’re trying to get a stronger sense with your power, it makes it easier for people to narrow down what your power and start setting up to work against it.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d been planning for this.”

“Lowering crime depends on more than just going out there and taking on criminals,” said the Swarm. “It depends on a network, on people working together to make sure that the vacuum isn’t filled up the moment its created. We had to work that into our plans.”

“The Swarm deals with a majority of that,” said Spider-Man.

He titled his head again, then visibly straightened.

“It’s not worth lying, Spidey,” said the Swarm. “Every time he tilts his head he’s parsing through his hearing, maybe listening to your heart rate and the nuances of it to tell if you’re lying.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” said Spider-Man. He looked at me. “You think I’d be able to do that?”

I shrugged. “If he can do it, I don’t see why you can’t. But then, might be that his increased hearing is more powerful than yours.”

“Specialised powers are often stronger than their wider reaching counterparts, right,” said Spider-Man, nodding. “Let’s swoop down?”

I nodded and looked at the Daredevil, he shrugged. I jumped and flicked on my pack and continued to move down. I hadn’t been moving too fast, and that was enough time that Spider-Man and Daredevil, who were using similar methods to get down, that they passed and landed first. I could move faster if I wanted to, but then I’d have to put effort into timing things just right.

“We’re…oh wow,” said Mr Delmar. I didn’t know the guy, but Peter passed by here often enough that I knew his food.

“This place has the best sandwiches in Queens,” said Spider-Man. “Hello, sir.”

“Hey,” said Daredevil, his tone even where Spider-Man’s as chirper.

“Um…the bugs…outside…health violation,” Mr Delmar said, stilted.

“I’ll be staying outside,” said the Swarm. _She’d_ also beat me to the ground, a swarm condensing into a humanoid figure. “I don’t need to eat.” She pulled away, the bugs sticking close but most of my attention was sweeping the area around us, looking for anything worth investigating. I landed and walked in.

“Hello,” I said.

“All of you,” said Mr Delmar. “Here…Can I take a picture of this? It would be a boost in patronage.”

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man. “I mean…I don’t know about Daredevil, but it’s okay for me and Lacewing.”

Daredevil shook his head. “I’m sorry, taking pictures increases the chance of people finding out who I am.” He pointed at his chin.

“Means you can take the picture,” I said.

“I can’t,” he said. He put his hand over his mouth and angled it down. “I’m blind,” he whispered.

“That…explains the head thing,” I said. “We can make it a selfie.”

“More personal anyway,” said Spider-Man. Daredevil leaned lightly against an aisle, looking in our direction, arms crossed and the parts of his face that I could see impassive. We got a shot in, and then another and another with each of us, even going outside so the Swarm could get in on the pictures. Spider-Man found the cat adorable and he wanted a picture with him.

“I can like…post this on the Internet, right?” Mr Delmar said.

“Yeah, sure,” said Spider-Man.

“It’s risky, though,” I said. “People might think we’re buddy-buddy and come here looking for us. Unlikely if they’re smart enough, but there’s still risk.”

“I’ll probably have to tell my insurance people,” he said with a sigh. “Knowing them it’ll mean a bump up in my premium even if there isn’t trouble. Maybe--”

“Better you tell them and see what they say than the alternative,” said Daredevil. “It could be that they don’t cover things with Inhumans or things with powers. It shouldn’t be like that, but the laws are still catching up.”

Mr Delmar nodded. “Thanks for the advice,” he said. “I’m sorry, didn’t ask you what you wanted.”

“Pick something for me,” said Daredevil.

“Me too,” I said.

Spider-Man did so with all the excitement.

We left soon after, Mr Delmar closing up after us, sandwiches in hand. The streets were mostly empty, it was cold enough to incentives people being indoors, but there were a few cars that passed us by, slowing and taking pictures.

“…which is why we wanted to talk to you,” said Spider-Man. He’d been talking a lot, but then I was an introvert and Daredevil was more reserved than I think both of us were expecting with his name and getup. “We wanted to learn about how to take people down and make it stick.”

“You seem like you’ve been doing okay,” he said.

“Less our work and the work of the police,” I said. “It’s hit and miss, gun possession, being caught at the wrong time and place, but there are times where people slipped the noose.”

He let out a long breath. “It’s less about making it stick and more about sending a message,” he said. “Crime is no longer a viable enterprise. Small players will have less incentive to start things, giving me more time to deal with the big guys.”

“Suppose that’s a healthy way to look at it,” said Spider-Man, but he didn’t sound satisfied.

“And it’s working,” he said. “I’ve even managed to push out some of the bigger players. Madam Gao, now the Hand…the Punisher took out a lot of the gangs that were trying to start up again with Wilson Fisk gone.”

“Can you tell us a little about Gao?” I said. “We’ve had a run in with some of her people, we might have further run ins in the future.”

“She’s…a drug runner,” he said, “cruel in how she operates and _powerful._ There’s something odd about her…links to…magic.”

“Chi,” said Spider-Man. “We know about it, did a little research. We still don’t know the limits of what it can do, but going by the other magic we’ve seen it might be a force to be reckoned with.”

“Reckoned?” I said.

“You’ve seen other magic?” a bit of the slump was gone, more confidence in how he spoke.

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man. “We made a trip of it a few days ago. It’s where we picked up Spot.”

“I told you we’re not calling it that,” I said, but it was weak, I’d felt myself call it Spot in my head.

“Spot’s the tarantula?” said Daredevil. “I was meaning to ask about that, but…it could have been the Swarm’s _real_ body. I didn’t want to be rude.”

“She doesn’t have a body,” said Spider-Man and then he sighed. “But you most likely know that that’s a lie.”

“I know who the Swarm is,” said Daredevil. “You kept a lid on it pretty well, but Spider-Man slipped a few times.”

“It’s not helping that you keep reminding us of your spying,” I said.

“Don’t we do that too?” said the Swarm.

“It’s…different,” I said. “We’re…I was going to say good, guys, but…”

“Hypocrisy does us no good,” said the Swarm.

“You get used to it, maybe, I don’t know yet,” said Spider-Man. “Hey, do you know Jessica Jones? She’s in Hell’s Kitchen, right?”

“I’ve heard about her,” said Daredevil. “She’s…extreme.”

“She was facing a master,” I said and shrugged. “Powerful one at that, it makes sense what she did.”

Daredevil didn’t look in my direction, only angling slightly towards me.

“Master?” he said, though I had the feeling that wasn’t the direction he wanted to follow.

“Master, someone who controls minions,” said Spider-Man. “We have a whole classification system, basic stuff on how deal with an unknown threat.”

“You said I was a thinker, I think it was,” he said. “I might be misremembering.”

“Enhanced senses, enhanced fighting ability, future sight, any power that has to do with the ‘mind’ than concrete output,” I said. “I’d be a thinker. I can sense where people are without having to look at them, got an increased knack for movement.”

“So would you,” said Spider-Man. “Also _me_ in a direction, but Lacewing and the Swarm say I’m worse because I’m a grab-bag, falling under a myriad of classifications.”

“What’s the Swarm?” he said.

“She’s a shaker,” said Spider-Man. “Power that affect a large area or that plays with the environment.”

“And breaker,” I finished. “Breaker-Shaker combo. Breaker are powers that mess with powers with physics. She doesn’t have a real body.”

“I’m every bug in this city,” the Swarm said, speaking louder. There were a few people close and they could hear, I knew. “Not as powerful when they’re singular, but when they make me up, they become a legion!”

“Stop showing off,” said Spider-Man.

The Swarm chuckled. “This must be an adjustment,” she said. “Finding you’re now talking to a mass of bugs.”

“It is,” he said. “But it was only a matter of time, right? Inhumans are popping up everywhere, it was only a matter of time before I had to talk to them on a regular basis.”

“Still dealing with Chi magic,” I said. “That has to be hard if you don’t have the strength.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what you think they can do, but it wasn’t all that much,” he said. “Just people that could dull the sound of their hearts, their footsteps. No increased strength.”

“Ours could take a hit, increased senses and they were slippery,” said Spider-Man.

“Slippery?”

“They coated themselves with magic,” said the Swarm. “They were hard for me to deal with. Not impossible, though, I think I have a few ways I might catch them.”

“Before I really joined the team,” I said.

Daredevil shook his head. “I’m surprised at how committed you are,” he said.

“Call it goal orientated or she gets pissed,” Spider-Man said.

“Noted,” he said, his head tilted. “Do you hear that?”

“Bakuto,” said the Swarm.

Spider-Man sighed. “I really need to work on my ears,” he muttered. “What is it?”

“Bakuto,” I said. “He wants his own meeting.”

“We’re popular today,” Spider-Man muttered. “Maybe I should call the guy in the chair. He’s missed a bit.”

“What he’s doing is important,” I said. “We’ll call him if we need to.”

“We’re going to meet him, then?” said Spider-Man.

“Unless you’re against it?” I said.

“We still don’t know his deal except that it’s suspicious,” he said, explaining for Daredevil. “We were supposed to ask about him, but the guy who might have known has disappeared for the last few days.”

“Maybe on another world,” I said.

“Another…” He let out a breath. “What world do you live in?”

“It helps that we’re lucky, meeting the right people at the right time,” said Spider-Man. “I feel like you’re connected to it too, through a few degrees of separation. Through us, if this works out.”

He only hummed.

“I can hear the car,” said Spider-Man. “It sounds expensive.”

“It is,” said Daredevil. “Listen carefully, there’s three people in the car, their breathing and their heart rates. He’s the one modulating his heart rate, making it even.”

Spider-Man closed his eyes, angling in the same way that Daredevil was. I could see the frown, rolling through his entire body. He shook his head, “Not getting it,” he said.

“It takes time,” said Daredevil. “And practice.”

“He’s doing it likely to lie,” I said, moving forward from their training. “He knows you’re here.”

“Is it possible that he can hear us?” said Spider-Man.

“He does have a degree of enhanced senses,” I said, thinking back to how he’d sensed me. The car was closer, a street over, still being led out by a portion of the Swarm.

“Could this be a trap?” said Daredevil.

“He wouldn’t attack, I don’t think,” I said. He knew the threat that I could be, maybe even knew the powers I had, more than anything he knew that I had the protection of the Ancient One. I didn’t think he’d just attack. But then, last I knew, Daniel wasn’t in New York. “But let’s be on alert whatever the case.”

The car, sleek and black, turned the corner, driving the small distance towards us before it stopped. Bakuto opened the door, dressed as sharply as ever.

“Heroes,” he said, giving us a small smile.

Spider-Man waved.

“Bakuto,” said the Swarm, a face floating down. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

He took a breath, slowly letting it out. “I need your help,” he said. “The help of heroes.”

“What’s going on?” said Spider-Man.

“One of the children under my care,” he said. “He’s disappeared and I’m scared because there are two people that I think would have taken him. Either the Watchdogs, who I’ve heard are in the city, or the ATCU.”

“What would make you think the ATCU would take Inhuman youths?” said Daredevil.

“There’ve been talks of disappearances marked with the appearance of military personnel,” said Bakuto. “There was a violent one in Los Angeles a while back, an Inhuman, likely newly into their powers, and he seemed to melt metal in a large radius around him. Men in military attire surrounded him before, I’ve heard, a box dropped from the sky and took him.”

“Box out of the sky?” said Daredevil.

“How much do you trust that word?” I asked.

Bakuto gave me a look. “You’re no doubt asking if I have friends in Los Angeles,” he said. “Which I do. I trust my source and the information they gave me, even if we might not have the full picture.”

I nodded. “What do you want from us?” I asked. “You have resources, I’m sure, people in the right places. Can’t you ask them for help?”

“You overestimate me,” he said. “I have people, friends who are willing to trade information about the goings on of the world, but that’s all they’re willing to do. I don’t think they would come here to help one boy who, from their perspective, probably deserves arrest.”

“He’s a criminal,” said Daredevil, statement of fact, and surprisingly, not accusing. I still wasn’t sure I had the sense of the type of person that he was, one that hit so hard, took on the ‘devil’ moniker and yet it seems like he was compassionate.

“He’s…troubled,” said Bakuto. “He spent a few years in the streets and that instilled in him certain attributes. He’s been known to steal, but I was hoping to temper that behaviour.”

“He could have just been arrested,” said Daredevil.

Bakuto nodded. “But I’ve asked the police stations for people matching his description so I could pay bail, so that one of my lawyers could serve him,” said Bakuto and he shook his head. “There’s been nothing. If he has been arrested, then all of it is being hidden.”

“How long has he been gone?” asked Spider-Man.

“Going on two weeks,” said Bakuto.

“Longer than the Watchdogs have been here,” he said. “Longer than the ATCU.”

“At least as far as we know,” I said. I took a breath, slowly letting it out. “We’ll have to talk to Danvers,” I said, “see what he thinks. We have no reason to believe that the ATCU really kidnapped someone. It could be that they were taken by the Watchdogs.”

“Which makes it worse,” said Spider-Man. “The Watchdogs are an Inhuman hate group,” he explained on Daredevil’s behalf. Daredevil gave him a nod.

“He could be dead,” said the Swarm. Daredevil’s fists clenched, I wasn’t even sure that he noticed. “Even if that is the case, we should ask Danvers, get a sense of what he knows and any help he might be willing to offer.”

Spider-Man gave me a look but didn’t say anything. I knew what he was thinking, that I hadn’t wanted to work with them, but this was different. If we’d said yes then we would have been working _for_ them, but now we’d be using the goodwill they wanted to foster so they could help us get what we wanted. I made a mental note to tell him this in future, when we were there as a team.

It might also help us having Daredevil there in the talk, because he might be able to tell if Danvers was telling the truth or lying. It would be underhanded, but if they’d really taken the boy, it was worth going through underhanded tactics to find out.

“Give us some identifiers about the child,” said the Swarm. “Things we can ask, we’ll tell you if we find anything.”

“Thank you,” said Bakuto, pulling out a flash drive from his pocket. “If you need anything on my end, call, I’ll see what I can do.”

And with that, he left, leaving us listening to him as he drove away. We didn’t talk about it, because there we weren’t really sure what his powers were. We moved in silence, opting for the rooftops, then going a few blocks over before we felt comfortable enough to speak.

“If we can’t talk now,” said the Swarm, she’d shed off a large portion of herself, it was near the fringes of my range, patrolling in that direction. She was now just a face. “We might never be able to.”

“It’s weird how paranoid we are with that guy,” said Spider-Man. “He hasn’t exactly done anything.”

“Spymaster,” I said.

 _“Spymaster,”_ said Spider-Man. “Its own sort of paranoia fuel. Was he telling the truth?”

Daredevil shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he said. “There were little flickers here and there, but they didn’t have a pattern. I think it might have been a lack of concentration on his end. Whatever he’s doing losing its efficacy before he regained control.”

“Whatever the case, if there’s a kid missing, then I don’t think we have a choice in what we have to do,” I said.

“Let’s get our guy in the chair in on this,” said Spider-Man. “Make a plan, maybe even go to Kamar-Taj and ask around about Bakuto. Seeing him…I get it. He’s charming, he’s ringing my alarm bells. I can’t help but look at this situation and think it’s the perfect bait for you, which gives me the feeling that he’s been watching us.”

“I’m rubbing off on you,” I said. “Not sure I like that when we’re supposed to balance each other out.”

“I’m just looking bigger,” said Spider-Man. “We’re not working with the ATCU now, but we might in the future. It would be good for villains if we burnt that bridge. For all we know Bakuto might be doing this as a favour for Gao before she makes a move, making sure we can’t get resources and get better.”

“That is a consideration,” I said. I took a breath, let it out. “Go to Kamar-Taj and ask,” because going there are again, especially when it might be day, might mean running into more people, more people that might be scared and maybe say the wrong thing. “I’ll go to our guy in the chair, have him look at what we have and what we should do.”

Spider-Man was about to move when he stopped, looking at Daredevil. I’d forgotten all about him as my brain had gone into gear, forgotten to take him into account because his skill set wasn’t exactly known to me. I knew that he could be used to tell if Danvers was lying, but right now, when we were gathering information, I didn’t know what I would do with him, and whether or not he’d play ball.

“Sorry. I don’t think tonight was a good night,” said Spider-Man. “We’re too busy and catching you up on some stuff might take too long.”

“We have systems in place and they largely work,” said the Swarm. “Fitting something new into them, especially in a crises situation isn’t the easiest thing to do.”

“Polite way of saying you need me out of the way,” said Daredevil.

“Harsh, but yes,” I said. “We’ll be working to plan, maybe once we have a way forward we’ll call, fit you in. It’s unlikely that we’ll move forward tonight at any rate.”

“If it’s any consolation, I could go past Hell’s Kitchen and drop you off,” said Spider-Man. “It’s in my swing path.”

Daredevil took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, thanks,” he said. The two swung off while I started running towards Ned’s house.


	28. Chapter 28

**Theosophical Three**

**4.5**

_“You know,”_ said Ned. _“If we weren’t worried about security, if we had our own sort of language, I’d say it’s better we have walkie-talkies because calls are taking a lot of money out of our pockets.”_

“Unfortunately we’re limited,” I said. I had both earphones in, but I was focusing with the key bugs I had on people around me to keep track of them. I was in a basement in an apartment building, it was filled with row upon row of computers, people ranging from mid-teens to their mid-twenties arrayed around me. They were keeping their distance, but they weren’t even hiding that they were paying attention to me.

Ned's people, though I doubted he'd actually met any of them.

He was smart enough to have a clear divide between his civilian and costumed identity, at least I hoped he was that smart. It would be the worst thing if he suddenly wanted glory, burning his civilian identity and the danger that followed. The thought stopped because this was _Ned_ who was risk averse. Even if he wanted the glory, the risk would just be too great for him to do anything. But then, he could be doing it another direction, giving more legitimacy to people he regularly talked to. I'd been allowed here because of him, that information would spread through the web and it would give Ned more speaking power.

I had to wonder if it was something he'd thought about when he'd told me to come here, thinking about the greater play, thinking about decreasing the resistance he would get for getting information in certain circumstances.

I couldn't help but feel an element of pride as I thought about it.

I was sitting in front of a PC, an old one that showed signs of being supped-up, but, I’d heard, slow enough that it was disposable. Ned’s network had helped us out, giving me access to a computer that I could use because Ned didn’t trust that Bakuto hadn’t infected the drive with a computer virus.

 _“I did a bad thing,”_ he said. The drive was in and there were three folders within. One labelled Andrew Glendale, another labelled Watchdogs and the last labelled ATCU. _“Bad for me at least.”_

“Yeah?” I said, opening Andrew’s first. It was filled with PDFs, the first I opened had basic information on Andrew. First, middle and last name, his picture as well as the names of his parents. Where he’d lived and some medical information.

 _“I made a spreadsheet,”_ Ned said. _“Tracking money coming in and money going out. I’ve compiled and summarised it, and we’re spending a lot of money on prepaid minutes. It’s making up a large percentage of our spending.”_

“We don’t exactly have a better way we can communicate,” I said. “Unless Spidey decides to invent us some earpieces.”

“Oh, I could get you one of those!” a boy said. One of the people next to him bumped him, shushing him. I turned in his direction. “I know some people. If I join your team then—”

“We already have a guy in the chair,” I said. “Quiet, please.”

“Sorry,” the boy said.

 _“What was that? What’s going on?”_ said Ned.

“People are listening in and they’re not well mannered enough to know it’s better to keep quiet if you’re eavesdropping,” I said. “He wanted to be our guy in the chair.”

 _“I hope you said no,”_ said Ned.

“Of course,” I said, focusing on reading up on Andrew. There was an excess of information that I didn’t need, but the most important was that he’d been arrested a few times for petty theft, spent some months in juvie before being pushed into a programme which ultimately led him to Bakuto. “Got a name for Bakuto’s organisation,” I said. “I’ll text you the name and you can search for it.”

 _“Okay,”_ he said. _“And I’ve got it. Give me a few minutes.”_

Andrew had the power to break into a ghostly form that could move through things, in that form he was also slightly faster, with a dexterity to him. The perfect power set for petty theft.

“I think he might have been arrested,” I said. “His powers and his past are just right for it.”

 _“There’s still the case that it might be hidden,”_ said Ned. _“Which is the suspicious part really.”_

I hummed. I closed the file and opened the one on the Watchdogs next, getting a sense of who they were. It was mainly comprised of news headlines that had been scanned containing jobs they’d done, as well as transcripts between people talking about their activities. It was stomach turning stuff, but it wasn’t organised, seeming more like fits of passion. An Inhuman with an inhuman form being mobbed, hitting the mob hard in self-defence and that calling the attention of others to swarm them.

But from the little information I got of them, they acted fast and then posted the information for maximum effect. There hadn’t been anything that I’d heard of, but then I hadn’t exactly known they existed too.

Spot moved from my back, jumping to the floor and moving towards the crowd. They scampered back a little, giving the tarantula their distance. It moved up to a computer, one of the computers that one of the older girls had been using, then started hitting the keyboard, writing down a message: _Search for anything about the Watchdogs, any recent news concerning them. Inhumans being attacked._

A cluster of bugs flew in, speaking, “Please.”

Ned wouldn’t like me for it, but I couldn’t in good conscious have him searching anything that might have him have sleepless nights. A part of me knew that it was possible he was seeing stuff like that on with some regularity, but it felt like something else for me to be the one pointing him in that direction.

But I could rationalise it, tell myself that he was already looking into something else and that was important. It was a thin sort of rationalisation, especially since I was intentionally doing so, but it put my mind at ease.

The girl nodded, looking at Spot warily as she sat down and started to type. I focused on my reading, on the information I got around me, the little conversations everyone was reading and trying to see if they might try and trap me in here. So far, most of everyone was just trying to take selfies when I was focused on reading, nothing that I thought suspicious.

There were a few files of people on the Watchdogs, people who’d been caught out of their mask, with files on who they were, where they lived and their pictures. It was scary how many of the people had military backgrounds, with a few even having ties to SHIELD before it had fallen apart.

I made a mental note of that information, moving onto the ATCU. A lot of the file was redacted, spaces lined black, but there was a large confidential stamp on the thing and what looked like a presidential seal. There were functions of the ATCU, protecting against alien and Inhuman threats, or advanced technologies. It gave off the image that they were a newly formed SHIELD but with maybe different people running it. It was hard to tell because most of it was redacted.

Another PDF had a list of facilities that housed the ATCU, even a location of their base in New York. There were lists of weapons the ATCU used as well as a few Inhumans that worked under them, most of them outside of New York. I scanned the weapons more than anything, nothing really fancy, not like the stuff we’d seen from the Vulture, but they had powerful guns. Ammo that could pierce through fortified armour, goggles that could see through thin layered materials, forcefield projectors but they seemed limited.

But it had scale, the ATCU had a base in many large cities in America and they had weak versions of the jets SHIELD had used which meant they could travel anywhere. If we picked a fight with them, if we dug and found a conspiracy, then it was unlikely we’d win with the resources we had.

Even if this wasn’t a trap, it was just too dangerous, except if maybe we asked for help from the Ancient One’s people. I felt the hitch reaction to say no, to make up excuses that they wouldn’t help, but that was just a rationalisation.

I pulled out a message and sent Spider-Man a text, having him ask anyone if they’d be willing to help us if we had to fight against the ATCU.

A part of me felt vindicated though, imagining what the ATCU could be doing. It was horrible, but I felt better because what I’d thought had been right. I’d been right in not trusting them. There’d been something off about the ATCU, something off in the same way that most organisations could be off.

 _You still don’t have all the information,_ I thought, but the thought was weak. I wanted them to have more traction but they just didn’t. It felt like everything was suddenly right in the world, like everything made sense and I liked that feeling.

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

 _You don’t have all the information and you could be_ wrong.

 _You don’t have all the information and you could be_ wrong.

 _You don’t have all the information and you could be_ wrong.

Part of my power meant I could focus in two directions at once, which meant I could repeat that mantra while focusing on everything else, let it become a low drone at the back of my mind.

 _You don’t have all the information and you could be_ wrong.

My phone buzzed and I looked down, a call from Peter. I picked it up.

“What’s going on? How is everything?” I said.

_“Ned, you there?”_

_“Yep,”_ said Ned. _“But I might be a little distracted.”_

 _“Okay,”_ said Peter. _“No-go on the possible help. Kamar-Taj has a strict hands-off policy with mortal affairs.”_

“I don’t understand,” I said.

 _“Theirs is to protect against magical, multiversal or existential threats,”_ he said. _“There are apparently pacts and treaties to keep things in order. If Sorcerers are allowed to guide things to the way they want, then it gives other magical users slack to do the same. Shamans and Witchdoctors can move forward and take power in their countries, it’ll spread the attention of the Sorcerers to dealing with earthly affairs that they’ll miss everything else.”_

I let out a long breath. “I’m not surprised,” I muttered. “What about Gao? Did you tell them about her?”

 _“Yeah,”_ he said. _“Chi is…complicated. There are too many people that have Chi, at least incidentally, that it’s not worth doing anything to stop them, and there’s also K’un-Lun, there’s also treaties there dictating interactions.”_

 _“So no help there, as well?”_ said Ned.

 _“At least not with the Iron Fist there in New York,”_ said Peter. _“They think he might be there to deal with any errant Chi users.”_

 _“Iron Fist?”_ said Ned.

“He’s the most powerful Chi user in K’un-Lun,” I said.

 _“We can use him, though,”_ said Peter. _“He would mean a teacher for you that’s not Bakuto. I’ve asked and they’re usually good people, though they might have an intense focus in protecting their home. Worth asking though.”_

“We’re getting distracted,” I said. “Did you ask what we needed about Bakuto?”

 _“Oh, right, yeah,”_ said Peter. _“Yeah. There’s…not much? I’ve been asking around and no one knows of a Chi user that’s Bakuto in New York.”_

 _“In New York,”_ said Ned. _“What about everywhere else?”_

 _“There’ve been a few in other places around the world, but it hasn’t been much,”_ he said. _“The only Bakuto of interest was…maybe a hundred, two hundred years ago in Japan. He helped some guy overthrow some empire. It’s unlikely to be the same guy, immortality is pretty rare, even the Immortal Iron Fist apparently isn’t that immortal.”_

“So still nothing,” I said and sighed.

 _“Yeah, sorry,”_ said Peter.

“Things aren’t looking good overall,” I said. “We’ve got the kid missing and likely taken by an organisation we can’t do anything against because it would be too much heat, we have a guy that’s suspicious but he’s suspicious with how little we know about him.”

 _“Or we’re too paranoid,”_ said Ned. _“Found information on his company, read up a little about it and it seems on the up and up. Nothing newsworthy that’s happened that points to fraud. I’ve looked at their financial statements and Bakuto’s listed in a periphery role in the board of directors but nothing beyond that.”_

I took another breath, letting it out. “We might be going too big,” I said. “We might be focusing too large and moving too fast. We’ve only had one real win and that’s because of stuff under the table, we’re not exactly prepared for this scale.”

 _“So what?”_ said Peter. _“Do we just not help this guy?”_

 _“We could just send this information to the FBI,”_ said Ned. _“They could investigate the ATCU and their operations.”_

“Except if there’s a mandate by the presidency that that can’t happen,” I said.

 _“Checks and balances,”_ said Peter. _“That_ couldn’t _happen.”_

“A whole lot worse has been going on,” I said. “SHIELD didn’t likely have all that many checks and balances from the looks of it.” I sighed. “But then I don’t really have an idea how they worked.”

 _“I think they may have been private,”_ said Ned. _“The government allowed them to do their stuff, even saw it as useful, but it wasn’t something they ran.”_

 _“I get what you mean when you said this is too big,”_ said Peter. _“Or maybe we’re just too distracted. Giving this to the FBI might help, maybe the CIA too—”_

 _“The CIA can’t operate in the US,”_ Ned said. I snorted.

 _“Maybe even the Avengers if we can,”_ said Peter, ignoring us. _“Give it to as many people as possible so that it’s at least investigated by someone.”_

“The best idea we have,” I said. The girl who’d been looking into the Watchdogs was trying to get my attention. I looked in her direction, she shook her head. “It’s not the Watchdogs,” I said. “At least they haven’t posted anything showing they’ve captured an Inhuman.”

 _“Further pointing towards the ATCU,”_ said Peter. _“If it wasn’t just some gang activity. Joy,”_ instilling the word with all of the sarcasm he could manage. _“Ned. You think you could start setting up an e-mail. We’ll be over to read things over, sleep on it and then send it?”_

 _“Yeah,”_ he said. _“I can do that. I’ll need some of those files. Lace, you mind getting Khan the Conqueror to look that over? Make sure it isn’t infected? I'll send you her picture in a bit.”_

“Yeah sure,” I said. “See you guys in a few.”

I turned as my phone buzzed and quickly found Khan, a girl on the larger side, fifteen or sixteen and asked her on Ned’s behalf. I focused on the impulses I got from the bugs outside while I waited for her to finish her work.

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing now. I thought about Earth Bet and the power I’d had there, the _reach_ I’d had. It wasn’t the first time I thought about me at the prime of my power, being Weaver and having to guard the world against Jack Slash and his end of the world scenario. I hadn’t been the most important figure, but I’d had enough pull that the greatest heroes had listened when I spoke.

My mind flickered back to one of the encounters, a siege in some building and Eidolon outside. He’d been one of the Triumvirate, perhaps the most powerful _human_ cape that existed and he’d stood down at my word. There’d been a threat, appealing to the hero within him, but that had been power, power I was lacking now.

I could imagine it, having that sort of reach and acting now. I’d be able to pull in information from a lot of sources, quickly finding out what I could about Bakuto. I’d have enough influence that the police would work with me without question and the people selling guns would quickly be found out. More than anything, I’d be able to go against the ATCU without worry, knowing that I had the power to defend myself against them if it was needed. I’d be able to find Andrew if he was in their custody. I’d be able to find any others who’d been disappeared.

I’d be able to _do_ something about it.

A breath, slowly in and then out.

Speaking to the Ancient One, I’d wanted to grow for myself. I’d wanted to grow stronger not because of some bigger threat, but because it was something _I_ would like. But standing here, seeing the scale of the opponents I had, I couldn’t help but feel the need to get stronger faster, to climb the ranks as fast as I could so I _mattered._

I didn’t often do it, but I let myself think back to the fight against Scion. The warped thoughts from my passenger, the people I’d sent to their deaths, the people who’d had strokes because of the fear they felt under my control. I thought about the person I’d been, the person I didn’t ever want to be and I saw how these thoughts might lead me in the direction.

 _Except now it’ll be worse, won’t it?_ a part of me thought. _Because we both know Peter and Ned would follow you down this path, getting hurt in the process._

Another breath, slowly in and then out, focusing on my bugs. Two people were at an ATM and they had a small thing, the size of a hammer, and it as making quick work out of cutting the front of the ATM. Bugs moved in the direction, silk lines being prepared as I pulled out my phone, making the call.

It started slowly, spiders moving so they connected lines to the tool, stretching and connecting to others. A network of lines and bugs hoisted a large brick up a street lamp, reworking the silk lines so they could keep the brick from falling. The unconnected threads connected, and the excess lines keeping the brick from falling were systematically severed. The brick dropped and the weapon flew from the woman’s grasp, clattering away.

Bugs filled the air and the Swarm took shape.

“Don’t run,” she said as the two were rooted on the spot. “The police will be here shortly,” she said and she waited in front of them.

 _If only it were that easy for everything,_ I thought. _Putting up strings, connecting them, setting up all the pieces and then watching as everything came together._

But facing an organisation would require time and I didn’t think it was in my nature to calmly take that time when things were so immediate.

Another breath, slowly in and then out.

I tried to focus on that breath, for it to be all my existence but my power was too wide. There was still the drone of the mantra in the back of my head, bugs still scanning for threats within my range, watching as the two perps were being taken in custody by the cops, having one cop ask me about the thing with the Watchdogs, watching their weapon being bagged. I tracked the movement of the people around me, watched them through _my_ eyes, listened through _my_ ears and those of my bugs to hear the conversations of others in the apartment building.

“It’s done,” said Khan the Conqueror. “It’s clean as far as I know.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“No problem.”

I left the basement and the kids behind, listening to the burgeoning conversation on my exit. Outside I jumped and activated my pack so I kept going up. I hooked a foot so I could pitch slightly forward, flicked it off and landed on the roof. Earphones still in my ear, I called Peter.

 _“What’s going on?”_ he said.

“I’m feeling close to a breakdown,” I said. “Was Daniel back when you passed through?”

 _“No,”_ said Peter. _“Sorry.”_ I sighed. _“Anything you need from me?”_

“Yeah,” I said. “I need my brain to turn off for a bit. A sparring session would help, you giving it your all, making me focus on the fight.”

 _“Okay,”_ he said. _“I’ll call Ned, tell him we’ll do our work tomorrow.”_

I wanted to say no, that Andrew was more important, but my mental health mattered more. It was the greatest good that I didn’t go crazy, even if it felt like I was leaving Andrew to whatever fate he was in now.

_Not that you can do anything about it._


	29. Chapter 29

**Theosophical Three**

**Interlude**

The wall was filled with monitors and on each video played. On one there was a girl and a boy, similar in how they looked save there was an intensity in the girl that the boy lacked. They both moved with grace as they sparred, but it was the difference between watching a ballet performance and krumping. The boy was smooth and elegant, duck low and jumping, blocking more than he attacked but keeping his opponent off balance with quick transition into offence. The girl was brutal, quickly moving to regain lost ground and going on the attack; hard punches and kicks, redirections that shifted into holds that moved to strikes.

On another there were the two siblings and another, a larger boy who was on his computer, a bag of chips beside him as he split his attention between watching the two fight and moving through indistinct tabs. He would speak at times and as answer there would appear a cluster of bugs to speak to him, in those moments the tempo of the fight shifted, the ballerina moving faster and pushing the krumper to defend.

There was other video with the three just sitting, doing various jobs independent of each other while they spoke in low conversation, indeed most had this image. In these the girl would be jotting down notes while bugs worked on a piece of clothing; the smaller boy would be working on a set of guns or mixing together chemicals; and the larger boy mainly worked on his computer.

The largest of the monitors had four people within, the three children and a man who had no right being alone with them, looking so distinctly different from each. The man was leaning against a wall, looking as though he hadn’t slept, quietly watching as the children spoke:

***

_“…haven’t gotten anything from the CIA or the Avenger, but we have to bet that they heard us,” said the large boy, Ned Leeds. “But then for both it was a long short.”_

_“Why?” asked the girl, Taylor Parker._

_“Because I’m using one of the e-mail accounts that were dumped on the net as part of Black Widow’s thing for the Avengers,” he said, “and I went through an middleman for the CIA. I don’t want to get disappeared.”_

_The boy, Ned Leeds, smiled._

_“Things have gotten easier since you made your appearance,” he said. “People know I’m working for you.”_

_“With, not for,” said Taylor, absently._

_“It also means more risk of people trying to find out where I am, so we have to be on the lookout for that.”_

_“That’s good,” said Taylor. “But it doesn’t help us in helping the boy.”_

_“FBI’s said they’ll look into it,” said Ned, shrugging._

_“Which has its own problems because we’d have to trust that they’re…” Taylor stopped, letting out a breath. “I’m a downer right now.”_

_“Only just a little,” said Peter Parker. “It’s understandable, though. We have reason to believe that the government is disappearing people. It’s hard to know who to trust if that’s true.”_

“If,” _said the man, Matt Murdock. “We still don’t know if it’s true. I did some of my own digging on Bakuto, asking Madame Gao if she had anything to share, and she did.”_

_“Madame Gao the drug runner Madame Gao?” Peter said._

_“We have a relationship,” Matt said._

_“That’s…ominous,” said Ned._

_“Police have similar relationships with informants,” Taylor said. “But they’re usually lower ranked members of an organisation. To have one that high up often defeats the purpose.”_

_“She knows I’m trying to stop her,” said Matt, “but that doesn’t stop her from trying to manipulate me, pushing things so that I take out her enemies. I thought that might be true here and it was, in part. She told me about him.”_

_“And what did she tell you?” asked Taylor._

_“That he’s a force to be reckoned with,” he said. “He works less through physical force than through plots. He’s a master of information and he uses that information to get a better sense of his targets, hitting them at key points so that they work on his side, knowingly or unknowingly.”_

_“He’s a mastermind,” said Peter._

_“I’m missing something,” said Matt._

_“Ned?” said Taylor._

_Ned nodded, looking away from his computer. “There are thinkers and there are_ thinkers. _A thinker can predict, they have a strong sense of knowing how to win or having just the ability that makes winning easier.”_

_“You’d be a thinker,” said Peter. “With your power, with your skill, its highly likely that you’ll win. You’ve got a strong sense of the person you’re fighting, you get a sense of how they fight by hearing and sensing things about them. A blow that’s coming, strain as a part of the body is moved, whatever.”_

_“Masterminds_ _are just thinkers who’ve used their powers to reach another level. They don’t work on an individual sense but on a much wider level. They use their power to change regimes or things of that level. Plans within plots within ploys.”_

_“Nice,” said Peter._

_“Or maybe not just powers but a way of thinking,” Taylor said. “The Big Man might have been a mastermind if we hadn’t stopped him.”_

_“Wilson Fisk was one with how he ran things,” Matt said, nodding lightly. “I think I understand. If he’s a mastermind, is he worth working with?”_

_“He’s worth keeping track off,” said Taylor. “Masterminds are hard to deal with no matter how you treat them. A mastermind that’s working in the shadows is scary because they could be doing_ anything, _a mastermind working in front of you is scary because they’re likely to work_ through _you.”_

_“Through in which sense?” said Ned._

_“Both,” said Taylor. “Whether manipulating you to do their bidding or just getting you out of the picture.”_

_“And this just rings of manipulation,” said Peter. “Taylor thrives on fixing wrongs and what’s worse is that Bakuto’s in key positions to find out. He mainly has teenagers working with him and it isn’t out of the question that some of them noticed when you were going through your crusade two years ago.”_

_“Crusade?” said Matt._

_“Bullying was a strong thing in my school and I wanted it stopped,” Taylor said. “I stopped it and had to go to court for it.”_

_“Mastermind,” said Peter, his fingers wiggling towards Matt. “Getting a sense of it, she probably knew what she was doing from the stuff.”_

_Taylor snorted. “You give me too much credit,” she said._

_“Not exactly a no,” said Peter._

_***_

A sound not coming from the speakers reverberated. The sole occupant of the room turned to face a door, he smiled at the sight of the guest. It was a woman, old and bent, leaning heavily on her cane.

“Bakuto,” she said, “secluding ourselves again, I see.”

“I was always more comfortable with data. Please, come in,” he said, gesturing towards an empty seat. He turned, pressing on a button on a keyboard and pausing the footage.

The woman walked slowly in, her cane clapping with each step. She sat and let out a grateful sigh as she leaned back, watching the paused image on the screen.

“Exciting times,” Gao said.

Bakuto chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it,” he said. “Who would have thought we were living towards this?”

“That’s the joy of life, isn’t it?” she said. “The sheer possibility of the future, better so if you can shape it.”

Bakuto hummed. “But _this,”_ he said. “Who would have thought?”

“Things are changing,” the woman said, simply.

“People are changing,” Bakuto said, “which I think is more excited. She allowed someone in.”

“Who knows the thinking of the Ancient One,” she said. “Perhaps there’s something that we’re missing, perhaps the girl is a piece in a greater puzzle.”

“Perhaps,” said Bakuto. He turned back to the footage, taking it in. Four people, but only two were really important. Less for the power they had than the interest they’d garnered.

“You have a fondness for him,” Bakuto said after a long moment’s silence. “The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.”

“He has a _fire_ to him,” said Gao. “It’s only a matter of time before he taps into Chi. If he continues trying to meddle in my plans, then I’ll be the one to push him towards it.”

Bakuto took a deep breath and let it out in a short huff. “There you go again,” he said, “showing your brutality.”

Gao let out her own breath. “Let us not, Bakuto,” she said. “The argument has gotten stale at this point.”

“Stale or not, you still act as though your methods are better and I just _hate_ that,” he said, the calm gone and instead passion in his voice. “Your methods are hit and miss. As many people as there are that suddenly develop access to Chi, there are just as many who are left impaired by their sacrifice.”

“Only the weak,” said Gao.

Bakuto let out a long groan, ending in a deep breath. “You’re just frustrating, you know that? _Frustrating._ And it’s only gotten worse the older you’ve gotten,” there was passion there, but he had a grin on him, a grin shared by Gao.

Bakuto sat back. “As much as you frustrate me, I think I enjoy you the best. You have more personality,” he said.

“Careful,” she said. “Or I’ll think you want to rekindle an old flame.”

Bakuto frowned. “I still don’t know why you let yourself get this old,” he said.

“With age comes power,” she said.

 _“Bullshit,”_ said Bakuto. “You just have a thing for geriatrics.”

“That isn’t worth a comment,” she returned. She faced the monitor. “You and I don’t see eye-to-eye on many things,” she said, the words slow, “but it needs to be said that you’re playing with fire.”

“I have things well in hand,” Bakuto said. “I’ve offered her a challenge and more and more I’ll look like the only way at getting at what she wants.”

“She isn’t the threat I meant,” said Gao.

“The Ancient One is busy with other things,” said Bakuto. “One of her people is on a mission, doing some ritual that’s important enough that it’s had the Master of the New York Sanctum out of his home for the last few days.”

“Worrying with the scale they work in,” said Gao.

“Better we not get in the way,” said Bakuto. “Better we use the distraction to get what we want. The longer the Master of New York is gone, the more we can work without worrying about them watching us.”

Gao took a deep breath. “Overconfidence will be your undoing,” said Gao.

“The same is true for you too,” said Bakuto. “I know what you’re doing with the Devil. I think I have a sense of how you’re playing things on a larger level, even if there’s a degree of uncertainty. If she finds out she’ll kill you.”

“Will you tell her?”

Bakuto shook his head. “I’ll back whoever looks like they’ll win,” he said. He shrugged. “I really have no stake in the matter.”

Gao nodded. “Play,” she said. “I’m interested in watching him since the Black Sky has died.”

Bakuto nodded and resumed the footage:

***

_“Not a yes either,” Taylor said._

_“Whatever,” said Peter._

_“We’ll have to talk to the Iron Fist,” said Taylor. “I think all of us might do well with learning Chi in one capacity or another, but beyond that there’s the fact that Chi users are his jurisdiction.”_

_“How are we even going to find him?” Matt asked. “Unless your magical contacts can get us a meeting.”_

_“Oh, that’s the easy part,” said Peter. “It’s only a matter of time before news is made that Danny Rand is suddenly alive.”_

_***_

“Troublesome,” said Gao and the footage was paused. “Alexandra wanted me to buy time, increase the time the Iron Fist spends in New York as she acts. If they’re working together it might complicate things.”

“More fun, though,” said Bakuto.

“Yes,” said Gao and there was the glint of excitement to her.

“And it increases the chance of death,” Bakuto said. “If I remember correctly, we only have one batch of the Substance remaining. Nobu and Elektra took two of the three we’d been hording in recent history.”

“Wasteful,” Gao said. She took a deep breath, slowly letting it out.

“It’s an adult Black Sky,” said Bakuto. “Those are quite rare. With our tutelage—”

“It’s harder to bend an aged tree than when it’s young,” Gao said, her tone tight as she tried to seem wise. “Elektra is old, with attachments. Coming back from the dead will take something from her, true, but the slightest disturbance and…”

A grin had spread on the Bakuto’s face. He looked at the paused footage, paying particular attention to Matt Murdock.

“You’re usually better at this,” said Bakuto. “Pitting people against each other.”

“Or you’ve learnt to read me,” said Gao. “You’re better than most in that regard.”

Bakuto shrugged. “Sowande is pretty good at it too,” he said. “Reading people, that is.”

“He cheats,” said Gao. “The pressure.”

“Always hated that,” Bakuto said.

“Jealous, you mean.”

“I want to disagree,” he said, “but it’s true.” He let out a breath.

Gao sat back, looking at nothing in particular. “It’s been too long,” she said. “Since we’ve had cause to come together.”

“The world usually shifts when we do,” he said. “Better that we don’t do it too much.”

“I must admit I miss it,” she said. “There was community back home. I thought there’d be community here in a sense.”

“We’re terrible together. All of us are. We’re too ambitious.”

“Ambition is never bad,” said Gao. “It was one of the things we hated about them, how they stifled the power they had.”

“In that sense then no,” he returned, “but at making and _keeping_ friends? It’s the worst. We’re more prone to stabbing each other in the back.”

Gao nodded. “I see your point.”

Bakuto snapped his fingers. “I _knew_ I was forgetting something,” he said. “I didn’t offer you tea. I’m being a bad host, aren’t I?”

“A better guest would have told you beforehand she was coming,” she said. “Even if you already knew. Though I wouldn’t mind some tea.”

Bakuto pulled out his phone, swiped a few times and nodded.

“Done?” she said.

“Yes. One of my wards became an app developer,” he said. “It means I don’t have to pay for a launcher and shortcuts app.”

Gao shook her head. “I took some time trying to learn how to use those things,” she said. “The moment I did, Stark Industries had made their own and then Oscorp was in the works for their own and I was told there’d be a war of sorts were mobile devices are concerned and I just gave up.”

“Really?” he said. “Oh man, you have no idea how easy these things make life. Remember the days when we had to keep track of our organisation with _mail?_ All the people we had to get in there, all that money we had to move in that direction, the regulations we had to lobby for. Now check this out.”

He went through a quick series of clicks, opening an e-mail account. There were over three hundred unread e-mails, all of them with tags written in code as well as colour-coded.

“I’ve got things diversified,” he said, “using different providers that I have some stake in. Most of it is hidden, of course, but this is for my newer people. Mostly the kids that are starting to rise through my ranks.”

Gao shook her head. “I can’t even conceptualise most of this,” she said.

“Then how do you keep track of all the money you make?”

“It helps to be thought of as a god,” she said, smiling.

“That’s not set to last,” said Bakuto. “Gods are becoming more mainstream. Thor is taking selfies, using the _Tube._ You should learn to do this stuff yourself, especially if you’re planning to usurp Alexandra.”

“When I take her position as head, you will do this for me,” she said.

Bakuto snorted. “I doubt that,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you already had a replacement Finger when the job is done with Alexandra.”

Gao said nothing, which Bakuto couldn’t help but take as confirmation.

The door behind them opened a moment later, one of his wards stepping through and silent delivering the tea. It would be a ceremony for Gao and Bakuto respected it even if he’d grown past it. He went through the steps, taking cues where he’d forgotten, and all in all enjoying the silence.

“The Devil must not die, you understand?” Gao said, first to break the silence.

“He doesn’t factor into anything I’m doing,” said Bakuto. “He exists in the periphery.”

Gao took a sip of her tea, glancing towards the screen. “You think you’ll turn her?”

“I know her personality,” he said. “I can structure things to turn her. The fastest method might be killing her brother, having her work with us for the immortality, but I feel there might be a trap in that direction.”

“Oh?”

Bakuto nodded. “Ask yourself the question,” he said. “Why give her a brother?”

Another sip of her tea, slowly taken as she thought it over. “I keep thinking attachment.”

“Yes,” said Bakuto. “She’s driven by it, defined by it in a sense. I think it might be that the brother and aunt are tethers, both defining how she’ll act and weak points if she ever gets too powerful. In a similar position, I would have made a failsafe of sorts with them, ensured that they had mental commands to take her down if she went too far.”

“You’re thinking if he died they’ll have spells in place to stop or find out who did it?” she said.

“Or it might mean attention, a lot more than we’re willing to risk,” said Bakuto. “Better to just factor him in. He’s a child. He’s smart, having learnt from her, having her paranoia, but he’s still gullible in some ways.”

“You would know best,” said Gao. She took the last sip of her tea. “I’ve spent too long here already. I only ever came to tell you the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knows about you, but you already know, don’t you?”

Bakuto nodded. “You’ve forced me to think about restructuring, but I think I can still make things work. I may have to come after you.”

“All the more exciting,” she said. “Until we next meet, old friend.”

“It was good to see you,” he said as she left.

He resumed the footage, working to catch up to the day.


	30. Chapter 30

**Pentacle**

**5.1**

“Holy _fuck,”_ Ned said.

“What? What’s going on?” Peter said, dropping the gun he’d been working on and looking around. “I’m not getting any danger. I might be missing something.”

“It’s nothing wrong,” said Ned, face plastered on his phone. It spoke to how high strung we were that I was burning through bugs to scout. For the last week it had been _cold,_ so cold that we couldn’t go out in costume, which was exceptionally bad because we were now on break, which should have meant more patrolling. More than anything it was so cold that my bugs were suffering, sending them out on patrol often meant some of my bugs died in the process.

“Then _what_ is it?” said Peter.

“Give me a sec,” said Ned. He put down his phone and switched to his computer. He quickly moved through it before he turned it in our direction. On it was a still of Captain America, Falcon standing behind him, mics were peeking through and a general thrum around him. They were on Capitol Hill, likely still talking things out over the whole thing with taking down SHIELD or maybe Sokovia? Captain America practically lived there.

He pressed play, a continuation of something longer by the rhythm:

 _“Captain,” said an unseen woman, almost_ shouting _the word. There were other voices in the jumble around her, but she was the most audible. “With the rise of powered individuals in the world and your team’s own example, there’s been a rise in vigilantes. What are your thoughts on these people?”_

 _Captain America smiled before he said, “The best thing about people, is how they can put themselves in harm’s way to do_ good. _It’s what the Avengers stand for above all else, seeing wrong and trying to right it. Alien technology, experimentation that’s led to powers and now Inhumans. The world is facing a lot of change in a very short time and the system is having a hard time catching up._

_“Police are doing their best, but sometimes that isn’t good enough. What choice is there beyond just shooting and killing someone if they have enhanced strength? And where do things go if that’s the norm? I think these vigilantes help, using their own powers to help the police in doing their duty, countering powers while sidestepping the fatal option.”_

_“You don’t think it’s dangerous?” another voice said. “That there won’t be more people like the Punisher in New York, or they won’t operate as the Daredevil does?”_

_“I smiled because I had the feeling this is the way things go,” the Captain said. “That the extremes will be used more than moderates. There are vigilantes that will push the lines, this is a fact of how humans work, but, and this may be optimistic of me, I’m hoping that more and more people will work for a system where we can comfortably move forward. When I say this, I speak of people like…I’m not sure they have an official name. The Crawling Critters, perhaps? Spider-Man, the Swarm and Lacewing. I’ve heard there might be a fourth, but they don’t have a name yet.”_

_He shook his head._

_“I’m getting distracted,” he said. “They’re moderates. As far as they can, they_ aide _police in tackling Inhuman threats, they protect people and make sure that justice can be served even when their participation can be a danger to the process. The Punisher takes justice into his own hands, becoming what he thinks he’s saving us from; Daredevil is helping, but doing it through too much brutality, muddying what’s coming. These Critters, I think, are paving a way forward for the eventual dynamic between the police and people with powers.”_

_Falcon whispered something into Captain America’s ear._

_“I’m afraid that’ll be all for today,” he said. “Something’s just come to my attention.”_

The footage cut short as Captain America strode away.

Peter took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He had the largest grin on him, so large that it couldn’t help but be infectious.

“Okay,” said Peter. “I…have this warm gooey feeling inside and…I want to do something _.”_

“Don’t hit the ceiling again,” I said.

“So I’m going to scream,” he said. Before I could say anything, he took a breath and then let out a scream. Almost immediately there was movement in the neighbouring apartments, people rushing for doors while others were going for phone.

“Go tell the neighbours we’re fine,” I said.

“Already?” said Peter. He stood and quickly moved for the door. I peripherally listened as he talked to the neighbours.

“What’s going on?” Ned asked.

“May still doesn’t trust us,” I said. “Things are better, but…” I shook my head. “She told the neighbours to watch us, report our comings and goings.”

 _“Yeah, we’re fine,”_ Peter was saying. _“Just heard good news. Screaming’s good for motional relief…Okay. Okay. Bye, thanks.”_

“Have things been better since the medallions?” Ned asked.

“She hasn’t found out yet, which…” I shrugged. “She still has that parent sense that we’re hiding something. At least Peter. He can get weird sometimes.”

“Yeah,” said Ned.

“You guys know I can hear you, right?”

“And for some reason you think we care,” I said. “I’m not about to _not_ gossip because you’ve got good ears.”

He scowled. “This is going to get worse if Matt’s training really kicks in,” Peter said, taking a seat in front of his stuff.

“How’s that going?” I asked.

“Mainly eating ice cream and trying to taste the ‘layers’ of it,” said Peter. “I get the feeling that there’s more that I’m missing from the way he talks, but it’s fun. More ice-cream than I’ve had in my life and the mix of flavours…you know, I think I just might leave the invention thing and just become a chef.”

“The novelty of it might mean more money,” I said. “Especially if you cook as Spider-Man.”

“Speaking of,” said Ned. “I was thinking about getting a lot of money.”

“Never saying no to money,” I said.

“Video camera filming you as you make something,” he said. “Maybe a scarf or a shirt, embroidered with something that shows it’s from us. Then we can put it on auction.”

“Why film it?” I asked.

“Sign of authenticity,” said Ned. “Prove that it actually comes from us. It might earn us more since we’ll have international attention now with Captain America saying nice stuff about us.”

“Okay,” I said. “But before other money offers start coming in, we’re _not_ going corporate, too many restrictions and other stuff that’ll be tacked on. We’ll lose control.”

“That goes without saying,” said Peter. “And hey, we have a lawyer now that’ll look over contracts for us.”

“I don’t think that’s the sort of lawyer stuff that Matt does,” said Ned.

“It isn’t,” I said. “He’s a criminal defence lawyer, but he’ll grease the wheel at least.”

“Here, here to corruption!” said Ned.

“I don’t think that’s corruption,” I said, frowning. “If anything, it’s just using connections.”

“That can be corruption too,” said Ned. “Favouritism or networking or influence peddling. But…I don’t think they really apply here.” He frowned. “Let me check.” He pulled out his phone.

“Anything on Danny Rand, yet?” said Peter. “We haven’t really been doing anything this past week.”

“At least you’ve been eating ice-cream,” I said.

“Matt’s really cool,” said Peter. “We’re moving to gourmet platters soon. At least that’s what I’m hoping.”

“Marry the guy already,” I said.

“That would be incredibly creepy,” said Peter. “I’m only fourteen.”

“And Liz,” said Ned.

“Liz?” I said.

“Not something we’re ever going to talk about,” said Peter, already blushing.

“You know, I could just go to your school, visit you at lunch,” I said.

“Boundaries,” said Peter. “You respect them too much for you to do that, so your threat doesn’t hold any water.”

I grumbled under my breath. “Whatever.” I pulled out a notebook and pencil. “And yes, to the shirt idea. I’ll start jotting down the designs. Are we using the Crawling Critters?”

“Creeping Crawling Critters,” said Peter. “The Three C’s.”

“Just searched urban dictionary about Three C,” said Ned. “It’s something stupid.”

I pulled out my own phone and did the search.

“It’s non-consequential,” said Peter. He scrolled up. “And the second definition is similarly stupid. We can still use the Three C’s.”

“A good group name sets the stage for what we’re all about,” I said. “And it’s sort of stuck in stone at this point that we’ll have to use the Crawling Critters bit.”

“Creeping Crawling Critters invokes fear though,” said Peter.

“You really want this, don’t you?” said Ned.

“Oh, come on, we’re bugs. We skitter and crawl. We hide in shadows but are ever-present, we’re creepy,” he said.

“I don’t think of you when I think creepy,” said Ned. “I think of the swarm of bugs.”

“You’re a biased sample,” said Peter. “I’m sure criminals think I’m creepy.”

Ned shook his head. “I’m sure if you asked,” he said, “they’d be more afraid of the swarm of bugs.”

“My word might not mean much, but I’m siding with Ned,” I said.

“Whatever,” said Peter. “Whatever to both of you.” He fiddled with his gun before putting it down. “So what now? People are going to react to this, what do we do with it?”

“For now? Nothing,” I said. “We don’t know what it’ll mean, good or bad. We just have to sit, watch how things play out and then react to that.”

“That’s surprisingly not like you,” said Peter. “You’re a girl of action.”

“I’m still figuring out the way forward,” I said. “We’ve got a few things to do but they don’t need _right now_ sort of attention.”

“Focusing on making money is always good,” said Ned.

“You’re focusing too much on the money,” I said.

“I just _can’t_ stop thinking about it,” said Ned. He let out a breath. “I feel like I’ve opened Pandora’s Box. Every time I’m watching the spreadsheet, tracking money coming and going, the possible money we’re going to get and I’m wondering if we’re going to have to talk to the IRS at some point.”

“IRS?” I said.

“Only certainties in life are death and taxes,” he said. “Mom always says.”

“Death might not be such a certainty with powers and magic and whatever else is out there,” said Peter, not looking in our direction. He let out a breath, putting the guard down. “I’m done,” he said and he sounded glum.

“Gun’s done?” said Ned. “Can I shoot it?”

“At the warehouse,” I put in. “No testing at the house.”

“Can I hold it at least?” he said. I shrugged. Peter nodded.

“Why so glum, chum?” I asked Peter as Ned looked over his gun.

“I’m like you right now,” he said and he let himself fall back, almost kicking Ned who was too close. “I don’t have anything to do and it’s cold outside.”

“Why does you saying that make me sound lazy?” I said.

Peter, eyes closed, shrugged. “I don’t know, sis, maybe you are? I mean, _I_ wasn’t the one that said that. _You_ thought it.”

I groaned. “You’re going into annoying brother mode,” I said. “Do something else. What other projects can we work on?”

“None that I can think of,” he said. “But you know what we _can_ do—”

“No,” said Ned.

Peter shot up. “You don’t know what I’m going to say!”

“I know that you and Taylor are both bored, and that you’re adrenaline junkies,” he said. “It won’t have anything to do with patrolling so you’ll want to go back to Daniel’s and go through another portal.”

Peter crossed his arms and fell back, pouting.

“You know,” I said. “Wouldn’t mind me a portal expedition right now. Who would have thought our _vacation_ days would be boring?”

“Most people are enjoying family time,” said Ned. “Christmas is around the corner.”

I groaned. “Christmas. _Gifts. Social obligation.”_

“You know, like, _two_ people,” said Peter. “What do you have to worry about getting gifts?”

“Well, no gift for you, then,” I said.

Peter snorted. “That would mean a lot more if you were a better gift giver,” he said. “Instead I get spiels about buying into a holiday that’s just there to inflate prices and that people go along with because of the impetus of tradition.”

“Which is true,” I said.

“Also means you’re a wet blanket,” said Ned.

“Et tu, Ned?”

“I’m not disagreeing with you, just…outside looking in.” He shrugged.

“Okay.”

Peter let out a loud groan. He clapped his hands in prayer and said, _“Please,_ something happen. I’m so _bored.”_

“It’s been a second,” said Ned. “You shouldn’t be this bored.”

“I can relate to this,” I said. “I _too_ am bored.”

Ned shook his head. “Can’t really help it, because—” Ned’s phone buzzed. “It’s Detective Smith.”

“Yes!” said Peter. “What does he want?”

“A meeting in an hour,” said Ned.

“Forces of the universe,” said Peter, “Great Over-Watchers. Thank you.”

***

An hour was too long because Peter and I were done with our preparations in fifteen minutes. We had our location and we went there ahead of time. I spent a lot of it scouting, which was just _killing_ my bugs. I made sure to keep the others in places that were warm, clustering them together.

Detective Smith arrived fifteen minutes before the time, he was one of two people. The other form was larger, “older, going by heartbeat,” said Spider-Man.

 _“The detective didn’t mention anything about a guest,”_ said Ned.

“Unlikely this is a trap because there’s no one around,” I said. “We have no reason to distrust him, except if he’s working with the ATCU and that’s just being paranoid.”

“Oh,” said Spider-Man. “There’s a line to paranoia we don’t cross? Good to know.”

“Not worth it,” I muttered. “Let’s go.”

“The Swarm?”

“Not making an appearance unless it’s necessary,” I said.

He nodded and we jumped off, him swinging forward while I sailed on a downward course. Detective Smith stepped out and the other form stepped out when we were closer, a familiar form dressed in a large jacket, with a bushy moustache.

“Officer Waller,” I said as I landed, stumbling to a stop. “It’s good, albeit surprising, to see you.”

The man smiled. “Last time I was with you guys I had the thrill of my life,” he said. “I don’t mind the opportunity to go at it again.”

“So they didn’t fire you?” said Spider-Man.

“Promotion,” he said. “More money than I know what to do with, but I have to postpone my retirement.”

“Where are they making you work?” I asked.

“With you guys,” he said. “Official Liaison of something or other. The gist of it is that I work with you, make sure you know procedure and that stuff. Hopefully I keep you in line.”

I let out a sigh. “Let me guess, it was the ATCU guys that pushed this through?”

“You don’t like them?” said Officer Waller.

“They wanted us to work for them,” said Spider-Man. “Lacewing here, thought there might be a catch, so we said no.”

“They must know we like you,” I said.

Officer Waller chuckled.

“Or just shots in the dark,” said Detective Smith. Spider-Man looked in his direction. “Hey.” He waved. “I’m still here.”

I said nothing.

“Sorry,” said Peter. “Officer Waller’s cooler.”

“Ouch,” said Detective Smith.

“You got the same promotion?” I asked.

“Not promotion as such,” said Detective Smith. “But I’ve been given official mandate to push Inhuman or extraordinary cases your way.”

“Not even more money?” said Officer Waller.

“Not _even,”_ said Detective Smith. “Got the raw end of the deal, I’m sure of it.”

“So, is this official introduction or is there a case?” Spider-Man said. “Sorry for being nippy, but it’s cold.”

Officer Waller nodded.

“A moment,” said Detective Smith. He ran to his car and came back with three folders. “We’re here so you have someone to call in the force,” he said. “If you need info, we’ll see about getting it. We’ll tell you if any evidence you get we can use, that sort of thing.”

“The folders?” I asked.

“Cases,” said Detective Smith. “Three people making major moves all of a sudden. Tombstone, he was an enforcer and worked his way up to boss. He runs a protection racket but we haven’t been able to pin anything back to him. Apparently, he might have a power that means he hits you and there’s only internal damage. He had powers before the whole Inhuman thing started and charges couldn’t stick because powers weren’t really a thing.

“Another’s Hammerhead. He was apprehended and caught, broke out and disappeared, but now he’s back with powers. He ran chop shops all through Queens. He’s back and will want his empire back. It might be messy. The last is the Rose. Not much is known about him except two things. He’s the gun runner in Queens and he might have powers because he dresses in costume. Black suit, red gloves and the handkerchief you put in your pocket?”

“Pocket square,” said Officer Waller.

“Yeah, that,” said Detective Smith. “Also isn’t seen without a balaclava, _silk_ from what I’ve been told. Everything else is in the folders. Goes without saying that you don’t show this to anyone.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said.

“We’ll be—”

“Wait,” said Officer Waller. We stopped. “Last time you promised pictures and…”

I took a deep breath and let it out in a huff.

“Okay,” I said. “Fine.”

The Swarm started to gather.


	31. Chapter 31

**Pentacle**

**5.2**

“I really hate the cold,” I muttered. I should have gotten used to it during my time in Chicago, but I really, _really_ hadn’t. Every time I had to wake up and wear a large jacket, my mind kept reminiscing about Brockton Bay. The weather there had just been the _best_ for going out in costume.

I shucked off the jacket as I pushed my way in. Peter behind me waved before he followed and Ned, well he hadn’t gotten used to this yet. Matt stood back, looking towards the open doorway for a long moment before beckoning him in.

“You found out where I live,” he said.

“I took you unmasking as implicit permission to find you,” I said and shrugged. “Nice place.”

“How much money must you have to own a place this large,” said Peter.

“I got it at a discount,” said Matt, distracted. “How? I—”

“You’re not the first thinker I’ve had to deal with,” I said.

“Taylor’s just trying to be intimidating,” said Peter. He threw himself on Matt’s couch. “She had a bug sleep on you while letting out a pheromone. We had to comb through most of Hell’s Kitchen before we found you. It’s why it took us so long.”

I let out a long breath. “Spoilsport,” I muttered. I had a bag on me and I pulled out a packet of files. Looking over the files had been entertaining for about a minute yesterday, but then I’d gotten bored again because I hadn’t been able to actually _do_ anything about it. So I’d used my bugs to transcribe the entire thing in braille.

“Thanks,” said Matt as I handed the things over. “What is it?”

“Police files,” said Peter. “People we’re after. Taylor wanted to get you in on it.”

“You stole these?”

Peter shook his head. “We’re officially unofficially working with the police,” said Peter. “They sweep powered threats our way. Part of the ATCU’s deal to control us.”

“Or make us a predictable element,” I said. “They know what we’re doing and they keep us inundated with work so we can’t look into _them._ We can’t think about the stuff they're doing under the table.”

Matt shook his head. “Can you…” He took a breath. “Can you give me a sec? I wasn’t really expecting anyone.”

None of us commented. It was two in the afternoon and it looked like he hadn’t slept. It shouldn’t have been too out of the ordinary. He mostly worked at night, which meant he had to come back home in the early morning. It didn’t seem out of the ordinary that he would have _now_ been waking up. But he looked like he hadn’t slept, which was worse.

He moved with a practised through his apartment, moving to the next room and the shower starting up.

“You can grab anything from the fridge if you want,” I heard him say.

Peter jumped up and moved to the fridge while Ned sat especially still on the couch a little away from me. My phone buzzed and it was from Ned: _We should have called._

 _Too late now,_ I sent back.

Matt often seemed put together when he was with us, how a responsible adult should look, but Peter and I knew death and its impact. Uncle Ben had died and Aunt May had put on a front. She’d wanted to make sure we were doing okay and part of that was being reliable. I got the same feeling off Matt. It was important to break that, insert ourselves as a distraction especially when I hadn’t really heard him talking about having any friends, allowing him a moment’s reprieve.

Ned shot me a glum look, still looking uncomfortable even when Peter embodied the concept of _‘make yourself at home.’_ He had a sandwich prepared and was making some for Ned and me.

“Thanks,” I said when Peter was done. Ned muttered the same.

“Matt has really premium ingredients,” said Peter. “He told me that at a certain point if you’re just buying peasant stuff—”

“I don’t think he would have said peasant,” I interrupted, covering my mouth.

“You weren’t there, how would you know?” Peter said.

“How do you know what’s in the box?” I returned.

“What box?” Ned asked.

“Metaphorical box,” said Peter. “I was teaching Taylor the scientific method.”

“Which I didn’t really need to be taught,” I said. “Hypothesise, test, conclude, re-perform. I’m not stupid you know.”

Peter shook his head. “Scientific method is not about being smart or dumb,” he said. “It’s about logic, and you’d be surprised how many people lack it no matter how smart or dumb they are.”

I hummed at that, taking another bite of my sandwich. “This is _really_ good,” I said. Peter grinned. I looked around. “I’m surprised how put together this place is. Stylistically.”

It was close to what I would want in an apartment if I ever had one of my own again. It was _spacious_ and minimalist. No TV, which I wouldn’t really need because I’d be more likely to use my laptop than a TV. But then, maybe a TV would be good? It would be inviting, where using a laptop made me think _alone_ than anything.

“Matt said he had a decorator in,” said Peter, distracting me from the line of thought. “Brought the place together. He found the senses he had important so most people must find sight the same way.”

“Nice philosophy, I guess,” said Ned. “I’m just gonna pull out my laptop.”

“No looking at the spreadsheet,” Peter ordered.

“I…sort of looked at it before meeting with you guys,” he said. “We’re doing good. Since Captain America’s talked about us I’ve received unique requests for photographs. I used some from our vault. Also, we’ve gone international. Which doesn’t really matter with Bitcoin, we can’t use the better power of the Pound to our advantage.”

“Good to know,” I said. “Do I want to know how much we actually have?”

Ned shook his head. “You and Peter get spend-happy when you see money,” said Ned. “Last time I told Peter how much we had, he wanted a hundred-dollar tool set.”

“It…was… _shut up,”_ said Peter, crossing his arms.

“I’m not spend-happy,” I said.

“You’re different, but you _are,”_ he said. “You seem to find things that might be useful the moment you know we have money to be spend. I mean, it’s useful stuff but, can we let the money sit for a little?”

“Money’s meant to be spent, Ned,” I said.

“Full-heartedly agree,” said Peter.

“Of course both of you would say that,” said Ned. “But we need to have some money on-hand in case of emergency. If there’s, like, a surge in crime and we need more chemicals to make the web fluid. Peter’s shooters aren’t the only thing anymore, there’s also my gun and with the numbers I ran—”

“Okay, stop,” I said. “I’m starting to get a little worried you might be _too_ obsessed with this.”

“It’s not really an obsession,” he said. “I just understand the importance of money and…Okay, I’m a little obsessed. Help me.”

“I’ll be taking this,” said Peter, taking Ned’s laptop. “A part of me also want to know if you’ve backed this up on-line.”

Ned shook his head. “Off-line drives that I have to manually update,” he said. “It’s…not real-time, but I wouldn’t want anything found out.”

“Taylor, you want to handle finances from now on?” Peter said. “I’d just spend all the money in a fit of passion.”

“My spending record is also not so good,” I said. I’d never really had to be concerned with money. As a villain, Coil and then Tattletale had handled the money, then it was the Protectorate and PRT that had handled finances. All I remembered doing was requisitioning what I wanted and then getting it after a short period of time. Here, now, I didn’t think I’d be able to handle finances.

“What I can say is, we’ll be _fine,”_ I said. “Even if our funds runout we’ll be fine because we aren’t at the point yet where we need to make money from this. Our parents feed us. I can make costumes without needing anything. We only ever really need money for Peter to invent stuff. Nothing really essential to what we’re doing.”

“And I can just take stuff for making the web fluid from school,” said Peter. “They haven’t noticed so far.”

“That’s not making me feel better,” he said to Peter, who frowned. Ned took a breath and the let it out.

“Unless…this has to do with something else?” said Peter. “The whole obsession with money. Drumm says people like to focus on other things instead of dealing with what’s really going on.”

Ned didn’t say anything, but Peter was right. I saw it in how Ned shifted, not looking at us and his expression scrunching.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather talk about this with Mr Drumm,” he said.

“Okay,” said Peter. I gave Ned a nod. “But if you ever want to talk…?”

“Yeah, I know,” said Ned. “Can I have the laptop back? I’m regretting giving it to you. I promise not to look at the spreadsheet.”

Peter handed it over. I stood, standing behind Ned so I looked over what he was doing. One tab was linked to his browser and another was a notepad. He’d compiled statistics of cars being stolen in Queens over the past week, comparing them to past weeks. I didn’t see anything that had changed.

Matt came out, looking a little better after the shower. He walked over to the files I’d made for him and started quickly ran his fingers over them.

“You can write and read braille?” he said absently.

“Yep,” I said. “Bugs can’t read regular written word, but they can feel depressions on paper.”

He hummed. He was on his second page, running his fingers so quickly over the page that I thought he might be skimming rather than reading. He quickly moved over to his third page. I became aware that we were all silent, watching him as he worked at it. Fourth and then fifth page before he stopped.

“The ATCU,” he said. “You think that they’re the ones who want you to catch these people.”

I nodded. “ATCU which we still don’t trust,” I said. “Which is being investigated but we don’t have anything to do with that investigation or know where it’s going. The ATCU is likely disappearing people and by going after these guys, we’ll be sending them into whatever it is the ATCU is doing.”

“On the other end, they’re criminals and they’re dangerous,” said Peter. “It’s a matter of time before Hammerhead starts something to get back his dealings. The Rose sells guns and Tombstone likely hurts people to get money. All of them are a _real_ bad against a theoretical bad.”

“It doesn’t feel like there’s actually a choice,” Matt.

“Yeah,” I said. “Right now, we’re thinking about just taking the one prone to making the most chaos out of the picture.”

“And the easiest,” said Peter. “We won’t have to do a lot of work with gathering evidence because he’s an escaped convict. We just have to bring him in.”

Matt nodded. “Hammerhead. Do you have his location?”

“I have the locations of his former strip shops,” said Ned. “Scrap yards, mechanics stores, that sort of thing. There are…. twelve locations spread out across Queens.”

“And we’ll be checking them out,” I said. “Between my bugs and your ears, we should get the matter sorted in a day, maybe two.”

He hummed, nodded. “What about the rest?” he said.

“The Rose and Tombstone,” said Ned. “The Rose we’ve already been looking into. He’s got a few different places selling his guns. We were waiting to see if we’d be messing up any undercover work if we acted.”

“Asked our people and we’re fine to act however we want so long as we aren’t breaking the law,” said Peter.

“We’ll be taking away his money,” I said. “We know where his guns are and we’re going to be pointing police that way. Undercover and wanting to buy, then a series of sting operations that’ll mean he loses his wares. I’m hoping he’ll do something desperate enough that we might be able to link him to the crimes, capture and then the police are done.”

“Tombstone is going to be slightly boring, but achievable,” said Peter. “People are scared of him hurting them. But I’m going to be asking them questions and hope to convince them to be witnesses. With powers a more known, the courts are going to take this seriously. The only thing that will be hard is taking him down. He’s a brute-striker from the files.”

“Seems you’ve had all of this thought out,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Kind of had to have an idea what we wanted to happen while we do our thing.”

“Thought it was a good idea to work together,” I said with a shrug. “Things have seemed quiet in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Right,” said Matt and he didn’t sound like he believed me in the least.

“Also, we’re worried you might have a freak out if you find out about this in the news,” said Peter. “Us going after super powered villains. I mean, that’s our bread and butter, but…” He stopped, his mouth catching up to what he’d been about to say.

“You don’t need to do all this,” Matt said. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, no,” said Peter. “You’ve taught me to parse tone and heart rate. That was a lie.”

“Your body language also isn’t hiding it,” I said.

“Even _I_ noticed,” said Ned, voice low. “And I think I’m the worst at this stuff.”

“If I’m being honest, Matt,” I said. “If you were these guys and you were dealing with…everything, I’d _push_ that you go talk to someone. But you’re an adult and I don’t think it’s in your nature to _really_ take something I say seriously.”

Matt only frowned.

“So, in lieu of that, we’re here to distract you,” I said.

“And to watch that I don’t do anything stupid,” he said. He didn’t sound accusing or defensive, but I couldn’t help but inject that in there.

“That goes without saying,” said Peter, shrugging.

Matt was quiet for another moment before he took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “This is how it feels,” he said. He smiled but it seemed false. “Being on the other side of being talked down to.”

“We’re—” Peter started but Matt cut him off.

“I know,” he said. “It’s just how it feels.”

He took another breath and let it out. His hands clenched into fists and I noticed for the first time that there were scratches there and they seemed fresh. I’d seen his armour and it protected his hands. He shouldn’t have had those scratched and yet he did.

“Okay,” he said. “Yes to the distraction. But it’s too early now. I have to head into the office. Figure out how…” He stopped, the words leaving him. He took another breath.

“We can help,” said Peter. “Whatever it is.”

“Thanks,” he said.

***

_Nelson and Murdock._

The place was in shambles, boxes scattered across the floor. Some were full, others half so and most had stuff _around_ the boxes than in. I got the sense that stuff had been pulled out after being put in.

“Nelson?” said Ned.

“A friend,” Matt said and he really smiled for the first time. But quickly that smile flickered into a frown. “He’s…He’s the one we’re going to talk to about the whole Swarm thing. He’ll get us into Hogarth’s firm.”

“Sounds like things are complicated,” I said.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he said. “Can you help with the clean up? I’ve been meaning to pack this stuff away but I’ve been getting…distracted.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Peter. “Just put them into boxes?”

Matt nodded. “I’ll be in my office with the more confidential stuff,” he said. He walked into his office, closed the door and sat heavily in his chair. He sat back, looked up and only breathed deeply, saying nothing.

None of us spoke, because to speak would mean he would hear us, especially bad when we would be talking about him. We didn’t talk through text either because that might be worse in some regards. _Knowing_ people were talking about you even if you didn’t know what they were saying.

Instead we worked to clean up, packing files together, pulling free cables and neatly tying them. At some point Matt did the same, starting to clean up his office, stopping and looking over things a few times. It was mostly the _stuff_ that got to him, knick-knacks he picked up, looked at for long moments before sitting down again.

We spent an hour cleaning up and then Matt took us to a diner whose food was good enough that it was heaven to his senses. He spent the time mostly asking Peter what had gone into the ingredients, conceptualising the various concentrations of the different flavours. It was…especially boring to watch, like watching two artists talking about the different variations in the colour blue, but Matt looked more at ease in those moments than I’d seen him all day.

We went back to his office and continued our cleaning.

And then, “What is it?” said Peter. I was already moving bugs through the air, preparing them. I was suddenly aware that I had a lot more silk lines than I’d prepared, but I ignored it, instead paying attention to the room around me.

Peter didn’t look like he was on attack mode, instead he was just looking at Matt, who, though he seemed _taut,_ it wasn’t like he was prepping for a fight.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Matt’s heart rate just picked up a little,” said Peter.

“You’ve been getting very good in a short of time,” Matt said and he sounded distracted. “Which means you’ll have to know the etiquette of having your powers.”

“Thinker danger,” Peter interrupted. “Taylor’s told me all about it. The inherent danger in being a thinker. I’m only not holding back right now because I’m with you guys.”

“That’s why you slip,” I said.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Peter. “But seriously. What’s going on? Your heart’s still picking up.”

“It’s…” Matt shook his head. “Can you give me a minute? Not listening in?”

“Okay,” he said. “Taylor, want to spar?”

“Sure,” I said, standing while Matt moved off towards the door. I heard the voice of a woman before Peter moved forward, forcing me to pay attention to our sparring session. Matt closed the door behind him.

Peter was light footed in how he fought, less about actually hitting me than taking away my footing. Which meant things on my end were a lot of jumping, landing in rolls and trying to go on the attack. Peter could likely feel it, but I moved bugs onto him, going on the attack to at least cloud what I was doing. Peter killed the bugs, but there were more quickly taking their place, getting lines in place.

He jumped and the table shifted, pulled by the jump. It made a loud sound and Peter got distracted, looking towards the door and giving me time to land a punch.

 _“Ow,”_ he said.

“That wasn’t even that hard,” I said, stepping back. I felt as Matt and the blonde woman moved, the door opening.

“Matt…?” the woman said. “Who are the kids?”

“They’re orphans,” Matt said. “And I’m—”

“He’s giving us direction,” I said. I shrugged. “I want to be a lawyer. Our minders thought it might be a good idea to show us that some of us can actually succeed.”

“Really?” the woman said, looking from me to Matt. The man was stuck giving me a long look.

“Um…yeah,” he said, smiling lightly. “I…needed something to do as I figure things out.”

“Oh,” the woman said. She smiled as she looked at us. “Are you going to introduce us?”

“Right. Right,” Matt said. “Boys are Peter and Ned,” he said gesturing to each. Peter gave a wave. “And the girl’s Taylor.”

“Hey,” I said.

“Guys, this…is…Karen.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Karen said. “Can we finish our talk?”

“Outside,” said Matt. “They can be busybodies.”

“Not nice!” said Peter, the door cutting him off. “Maybe we should focus on the mission, because sparring, with how we fight, is bound to be a disaster.”

“Yeah, Ned?”

Ned nodded, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “Hammerhead?” I nodded, sitting in front of him. Peter did the same. “I’ve been talking to Detective Smith and my own people to draw a map; suspicious activity, talks that are moving through the mill, whatever. I’m trying to figure out the place it might be with the data that I have, trying to shorten the search.”

“You have no idea how much I want that,” Peter swooned. “Actually, staking out a place is _extremely_ boring.”

“Should be easier with you getting your ears,” I said.

Peter shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll ever get to Matt’s level, though, or maybe I’m rushing it?”

“You’ve only been doing this a week and you can tell how old a guy is by their heartbeat,” said Ned. “I think that’s pretty impressive.”

“That’s easier than you’d think,” said Peter. “Just getting a sense of how large the heart is, the speed it’s beating, that sort of thing. If you focus on the breathing too, there’s supposed to be other information too so you can get a picture. It took a long bit of concentration to get all of that figured, but Matt takes a second.”

“Well, he has been doing this a while,” said Ned. “I mean the guy’s old. What is he, forty, fifty?”

I frowned. “What? Not forty, surely. Maybe mid-thirties?”

“Both of you are terrible at telling people’s age,” said Peter.

I shrugged. “At a certain point people all look the same,” I said. “You’re either twenty or you’re fifty, no in-between.”

“Amen to that,” said Ned.

“Karen’s leaving,” said Peter.

“You were listening?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I was focusing here,” he said. “But I can hear the click of her heels.”

Matt didn’t walk in for a moment before the door slowly opened.

“Do you want to spar?” Peter asked, not even giving Matt a moment. “I wasn’t listening, but you sort of look glum and Taylor likes sparring when she wants a distraction.”

Matt was quiet for a moment before he said, “I was thinking about something else.”

“Going out when you’re emotionally imbalanced isn’t a good idea,” Ned said.

I couldn’t help myself. “Is that from Star Wars?”

“Something Yoda might say,” Ned said, shrugging. “Doesn’t mean it’s not good advice.”

“Wasn’t saying it wasn’t,” I said.

Matt took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “I think…that’s part of the problem,” he said. “I just need some time to think. Other advice. I have to go. Do you mind not starting things until I’ve called?”

“Yeah, sure,” Peter said before I could say anything. Peter looked at me. “We could do more planning, figure out the small steps of what we’re going to do with the others.”

I shrugged. “Maybe start with some of the places Tombstone’s supposed to be ‘protecting.’”

“Thanks,” he said.


	32. Chapter 32

**Pentacle**

**5.3**

“F-Y-I, I am _not_ enjoying this,” I said. There was popcorn and there was a thread, and I was working through it. Peter was holding up a short ladder for Aunt May who was putting up tinsel on the walls. “We don’t usually do this. Like, _ever._ ”

“Well, Adam’s going to be spending Christmas with us and he seems to enjoy this sort of thing,” May said. “I thought we’d accommodate.”

“Doesn’t he have family?” said Peter. He blanched as May gave him a look. “I mean…” He shrugged. “You haven’t been dating all that long…unless you have?”

“There’s a settling period with these things,” May said and shrugged, her attention going back to setting up the tinsel. “We first figured if we’d move forward. After that, I introduced him to you.”

“So how long have you _actually_ been dating?” I asked.

“A bit,” said May, “and we’re moving away from the original conversation. He’s spending Christmas because it’s too much money going home especially when he has a few days off of work.”

“Where’s he from?” said Peter.

“The mid-west,” May said.

“Explains the bumpkin vibe I got off of him.”

 _“Peter,”_ said May, but there was a large grin on her. I couldn’t hold back the chuckle.

“At least he didn’t call him a yokel,” I said.

“Or a country cousin,” said Peter.

“Bogman.”

“Hayseed.”

“Rube.”

“Culchie.”

“Culchie?” said May. “That can’t be a word.”

“Carl,” said Peter.

“Kern.”

“Hillbilly.”

“Bucolic—”

“Okay,” said May. “We’re stopping this now before Peter pulls out redneck.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Peter, you were losing,” said May.

“You’ve got engineering smarts. I’ve got literature smarts,” I said. “Word-off, I’ll slay you any day.”

“I _wasn’t_ going to lose,” said Peter.

“I think you were,” said May with a light smile. He took a breath, about to say something when May interrupted. “I mean, you can’t see that you’ll lose _this_ so that says something,” she said. “We’re ganging up on you. It’ll be harder for you to defeat us,” she said dramatically.

“May, I’m a _genius,_ ” he said.

“Which says what about _us?”_ I said. He blushed and stammered. I grinned.

“You’re playing me,” he said.

“I was proving May’s point,” I said. “Sometimes it’s important to see when you’re losing so you can either change tack or run.”

He gave me a look, suddenly serious. “Got it,” he said.

“And getting away from…” her hand waving towards us, “this. _Rude._ Very rude,” she said. “Both of you.”

“But factually correct,” I said.

“Things can be factually correct and rude,” said May. “We’re moving.” She got off the ladder and Peter moved it. “Always surprised how strong you are,” she said. Peter flexed.

“Especially for how scrawny he is,” I said.

Peter snorted. “People in glass houses,” he said. “If I’m scrawny then you’re…I don’t even know.”

“Perfect?” I supplied.

“You know we’re made up of the same genes, right?” he said. “So if you’re perfect—”

“You’re not,” I said. “Cutting you off. My perfection comes from the _configuration_ of my DNA. Those are different or we’d look more alike.”

“You’re thinking about genes,” said Peter. “I _just_ said genes.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

Peter groaned. “I _told_ you this before!” he said. “I told you the difference between genes and DNA.”

“No, you’ve talked _at_ me about them,” I said. “I was doing other things.”

 _“Betrayal!”_ said Peter. My phone buzzed and I heard May sigh. “What’s wrong?”

“I just liked this,” she said. “Us spending time together.”

“It’s Christmas,” I said. “Family time. We’ll get to spend more.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “I’m thinking about the future,” she said. “Just…you’re growing up. It’s hitting me more and more that you’re starting to have lives independent of me. It’s beautiful and yet… _terrifying._ ”

I only stared, because what could I say to that.

“Which isn’t your fault in any way,” said May, stepping off the ladder and giving Peter a hug. “Come here,” she said to me and I couldn’t help but smile even if there was a little guilt there. It was hitting me that they’d figured me out in little ways. They both knew that I liked hugs but I couldn’t really ask for them, it wasn’t in my nature. It spoke to how similar they were that they didn’t give me the option to refuse.

May took too a deep breath, wrapping us in a hug.

“Growing up is a part of life,” she said, “and…I may have problems with that, but those are _my_ issues, not yours. I don’t want it to impact your maturity.”

“I love you, May,” said Peter.

“It goes without saying,” I said.

May pulled back, pushing up her glasses and wiping her eyes. “You guys,” she said, fanning her eyes. She smiled. “Okay, get ready for your night out and stay safe.”

“We’re only going to Ned’s,” I said. Which was a lie. Peter gave me a look, the same look Matt had given me in his office.

May snorted. “Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”

“I promise,” said Peter. “No sneaking out.”

There was doubt on May and it cut deep into Peter, I could see.

I went to my room to pick up my bag, Peter doing the same. The story was we’d be spending the night at Ned’s and indeed that would be where we’re going to talk about everything Ned had figured out. But after that, Peter and I would be sneaking out in search of Hammerhead.

It didn’t take us long before we got to Ned’s place, only putting on masks and changing out jackets because, though the weather had gotten better, it was still too cold to be out only in costume. Peter swung us there and we called Matt to get him in on the conversation.

“Good talk?” said Peter.

 _“A lot to think about,”_ Matt said. _“But…it’s complicated.”_

“Talking helps,” I said.

“Me and Taylor have this thing where we state how we’re feeling and then dig into it so you personally understand it and the other person understands your thoughts,” said Peter. “It might help you to just say it, sort of loose your mind so you say what you’re thinking without filtering it first.”

 _“Noted,”_ said Matt.

“But you don’t have rush it,” I put in. “Or it doesn’t even have to be with us.”

 _“I’ve been talking to someone,”_ Matt said. _“My priest. You don’t have to worry about me talking to someone.”_

“Suppose that’s good,” I said. “Ned?”

“Okay,” he said. “Good news, you don’t have to go on a stakeout.”

“Yes!” said Peter.

 _“You got something?”_ said Matt.

“Yep. I have legitimacy,” said Ned. “More of the people are offering information.”

“Also means people might try to manipulate you,” I said.

“Matt, if you haven’t figured it out yet,” said Peter. “My sister’s suspicious of _everyone._ The moment that she isn’t, is when _you_ should be the one who’s suspicious.”

 _“That explains the Bakuto thing, at least,”_ said Matt.

“Is that something you’ve been thinking about a while?” I asked.

 _“I’ve been trying to understand you. All of you,”_ he said.

“All the better to convince us to stop this?” I asked. He didn’t say anything. “Can I ask something? Something I’ve felt, something I know Peter’s felt and something maybe Ned’s felt.”

 _“I know what you’re going to ask,”_ he said. _“You don’t need to.”_

Peter shot me a look which I couldn’t help but interpret as _don’t push._ I didn’t move because _he_ didn’t move because Matt might hear us shifting, if he wasn’t listening to our heartbeats right now.

“I’m not going to push,” I said, because with a thinker it was better to assume two things: One, that they knew everything; and two, that everything they said was a lie. Two didn’t work with a team member, but one worked in every circumstance.

“Back to this,” said Ned. “I have people looking out and they spotted someone looking like Hammerhead in the company of four others. There’s word that he has other Inhumans or Gifted or Enhanced or whatever—”

“Why the distinction?” I asked. Ned looked at me, brow hitched. “Why the distinction between Inhuman and all the others?”

“Oh, right,” said Ned. He did a quick series of clicks and said, “There’s been a divide. There are Inhumans that think they’re ‘naturals,’ because they got their powers through evolution, and people like Captain America who got their powers through science are Enhanced. There’s even been Inhumans that are calling the Enhanced perverted science experiments.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered.

“Captain America _is_ a science experiment though,” said Peter. “But that doesn’t make the people that say that any less rude. Also, I really _hate_ when your worldview is proved right,” Peter said. “I don’t like feeling jaded.”

 _“I’m missing context,”_ said Matt.

“I’m of the opinion that people do some stupid things even when there’s intense reason that they shouldn’t,” I said. “Often it’s easy to simplify and just say people are stupid.”

“She does believe that there’s good in people, which makes things better,” said Peter. “I love you,” he said to me, “but I don’t think I’d be able to handle you if you didn’t have even the slightest bit of optimism.”

“I get that,” I said. “Do you know if _they’ve_ said whether they’re Inhumans or Enhanced?”

Ned shook his head. “There really wasn’t that much detail. Only that Hammerhead’s made an appearance and he has four people with him. As a statement for taking back his empire, he killed anyone that could be a threat.”

 _“How would he know?”_ Matt asked.

“Thinker most likely,” I said. “Which means that if we’re going after them, they’ll know we’re coming.”

“Even if they don’t have a thinker then working on worst-case, let’s just assume that he has one,” Ned said. “Better you guys go in there over-prepared than under.”

“Hammerhead has powers and we’re not really sure what they are beyond brute,” said Peter. “Now he has a thinker and three other powers that we don’t know anything about. That makes taking him down harder.”

 _“And it also gives the ATCU more people to work with,”_ said Matt, _“if we’re thinking longer term.”_

“I’ve got that on our to-do list,” said Ned.

“Ned,” I said, because I’d been feeling the hitch reaction to turn my mind towards them, to think about the greater conspiracy and what they were doing. It grated at me, not knowing, that I was putting everything on the hope that this would be sorted without me getting involved. Because honestly, I didn’t trust that it would happen. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Ned grinned for the first time in a long while. It hit me all of a sudden how…not sad exactly, but that he’d had this weight on him for the last while and I hadn’t really noticed. I noticed him blush because I’d been staring at him for too long. I looked away.

“Let’s not think about that right now,” said Peter. “Only focus on what we _can_ do.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You have a location?”

“Bayside,” he said. “He’ll be at Bayside Auto Salvage. Here are pictures.”

Peter let out a whistle. “Nice place,” he said. And it was, at least from the pictures. Crushed cars that were neatly stacked in rows. There were pictures of the central building and how the used parts were stowed.

“Even a webpage,” said Ned, pulling it up. He moved to the About page and I read through a service guarantee for the parts. How they were tested beforehand so they could be assured they worked, even the serial numbers searched against stolen vehicles.

“I feel sorry for them,” said Peter. “I mean, it’s possible that this is just a front, but…Maybe it isn’t and they’ve moved beyond stealing. Now it’s thrust back because of old relationships.”

“Never go into crime,” I said. “It finds a way to stick with you.”

Peter looked at me. “You know, it’s always surprising how much conviction you can put in what you say,” he said. “I think that’s what makes you a great liar.”

“I’m a great liar?”

 _“Scarily good,”_ said Matt. _“Your tone’s always even, there’s only the most minor of changes in heartbeat and your face just doesn’t change at all.”_

“You can tell?” said Peter.

 _“You’ll get better,”_ said Matt. _“We know the location. Is this going to be scout only, or…?”_

“You’re deferring,” I said. “I’m surprised.”

 _“Still trying to get my bearings,”_ he said.

I nodded. “Not scout only, I think. Especially if they have a thinker. We have to go in expecting a fight and expecting them to be prepared.”

 _“Suit up and let’s meet,”_ he said.

It didn’t take us too long to prep. Peter and I getting into costume and him having to bear through having bugs on him so that I could have a healthy swarm. We picked up Daredevil along the way and made our way to Bayside Auto Parts.

I wasn’t surprised at all to find a veritable army.

 _“They’re here,”_ a voice said, male. _“And things get worse if this doesn’t start as a fight.”_

 _“Fan out and shoot anyone you see,”_ another voice said, low and gruff, slow in how he talked.

People moved.

***

“Ned, call Detective Smith and tell him where we are,” I said.

 _“Calling,”_ said Ned.

 _“…changed,”_ I heard the thinker say. _“Moved from three to five. Give me a sec?”_

 _“All of you halt!”_ the gruff man said, likely Hammerhead. I relished that little moment because it meant I could slip in more bugs, get a better image of everyone. There were bugs there with them, but not enough that the Swarm would be making an appearance yet.

“Seventeen,” Daredevil was saying. “Thirteen of them have guns. The four that don’t are the ones likely to have powers. The speaker has a gun.”

“Thinkers are always first taken out of the field,” Spider-Man whispered back. “The Swarm?”

“Gathering herself,” I said. “But it’s slow.”

The three of us were behind a row of crushed cars, the section we’d chosen free from the cameras stationed across the property. The place was two storeys tall, with the second floor being offices, the employee area and some machines connected to computers. Hammerhead and his people were on the second floor, where the security station was and no doubt, where one of his people watching monitors to track us since they knew there was a threat.

More bugs flew in from neighbouring buildings, weathering the cold to get at the warmer building at the edge of the salvage yard. Lines were being prepared by the bugs inside the building and other bugs were already moving to key positions, tying silk lines around guns. If I’d had more bugs, I would be creating counterweights, but that wasn’t something I could do. Which meant I was attaching other silk lines to sturdy furniture, loose ended so that I could connect it when the moment was right.

 _“The police should be here in the next ten minutes,”_ the thinker said. _“Until then we’re dealing with the Crawling Critters.”_

 _“What if we run?”_ asked Hammerhead.

 _“They catch us if we split apart,”_ the thinker said. _“It’s better if we’re together. We might have no choice but to make noise. The number goes down. The number also drops a marginal bit if Smog floods the place, targeting bugs.”_

 _“If I use it like that—”_ a woman said, likely Smog.

 _“Do it,”_ Hammerhead interrupted.

“Fuck,” Spider-Man muttered under his breath.

Daredevil started to move and I held his arm.

“We move slow and get a sense of their powers,” I said. “We play this with stealth but we go for the thinker first.”

Daredevil nodded and moved, going at a run and keeping low so he would avoid the cameras. I ran after him while Spider-Man chose to run in at a different direction, moving faster than Daredevil and me as we moved towards the building.

I paid attention to what Smog was doing, filling the room with more bugs to get a better sense of what was going on. She was like Grue in that she let a fog roll off her, but unlike Grue’s, hers felt hot. The heat was minuscule, but it was enough that it affected my bugs. Short and concentrated, wiping out every bug that couldn’t move out of the way, but the fog stayed close to the ground, moving so slow that the bugs in the floor could run away, running up desk legs to get out of the way.

“Door,” Daredevil said. “There’s a camera there.”

“The Swarm’s working on it,” I said. A portion of bugs braved the cold, moving to the cameras stationed across the property. Most of them clustered on the lenses but some were working at the wires, starting to chew at the in case the bugs clouding the cameras died.

Daredevil and I moved again. He reached the door which had a keypad and quickly pressed the code before we moved in. That had been luck on our end. While getting here he’d caught someone keying in the sequence and he’d memorised the tone of the beeps.

 _“In,”_ the thinker said. He was a thin man, almost sickly so. He stood next to a larger man, almost ape-like in how big he was. The other three were women, standing close to the thinker and Hammerhead. _“They’ll be up in a few seconds.”_

 _“You three,”_ Hammerhead started, but this was the moment that Smog’s effect reached its peak. All at once it pulled back before it exploded outward, hitting every bug it could and killing it. There were a few that survived, it seemed that the effect could be stopped by two layers of clothing, but that didn’t leave me many bugs to work with still in the room.

 _“Watch the doors,”_ said Hammerhead. Thankfully the bugs I was using to listen were in the walls or a large portion of my swarm would be gone. _“Anything that tries to go through,_ kill _it.”_

“Spider-Man, are you listening?” I said.

 _“Yeah,”_ he said. He was on the roof, pulling at a locked door. I could hear the tremors of the thing, the shriek of metal bending.

“Gloves are off,” I said. “We hit harder as part of a larger play.”

 _“Whole no guns thing?”_ said Peter.

“Yeah.”

“Can you see in the dark?” Daredevil said.

“Too little bugs. Why?”

“Cut the lights. Take the advantage from them.”

“Give me a bit,” I said.

I started to get a healthy swarm in, pulling more bugs from neighbouring buildings and using the rats in the sewers to get a healthy supply of fleas. I started laying bugs out on the floors, getting a better sense of the building. I didn’t concentrate them because with the shaker in the field I’d be taking most of them out the moment she flooded the room again.

It wasn’t a swarm, but it was enough to elicit attention. They started spilling out of the narrow stairwell leading upstairs, moving towards the three men who were guarding our way in. They couldn’t help it, because even if they didn’t have numbers the bugs were intimidating. Shooting started and Daredevil moved. I followed close behind.

It was a little annoying, doing this, following his lead, especially when he didn’t communicate much, but I was still wanting to get a sense of how he fought. More than anything I wanted to watch him. He reached the door just as the bugs that were eating at electrical lines got through. Everything went black and Daredevil pushed open the door, throwing his billy-club and then ducking to the side.

I heard a _clack_ then a yelp before one of the men stumbled forward and fell down a flight of stairs. My irritation got larger because if I’d known what he’d been about to do I would have gotten silk lines around their guns, connected them to his target and had him disarmed them all in one fell swoop.

The two remaining men started firing towards the door, ignoring my bugs in the process.

 _“They’re putting on their phones,”_ Spider-Man said. He’d broken through the door and made his way into room, hidden by a little bend that lead a staircase leading to the roof. _“I’m going to take out the thinker.”_

“Be safe,” I whispered.

 _“Something’s about to happen!”_ said the thinker but Spider-Man was already moving forward, skittering on the roof before he fired. The thinker stumbled back.

 _“I’m going wide,”_ said a woman and I felt as the core group went down, the men with guns not reacting so quickly and the _falling_. Spider-Man jumped down and I felt him heave something before he threw it, bugs in the air feeling a drift of wind before three people were taken down with screams.

Spider-Man jumped in and dodged as guns turned in his direction; cracks started but he jumped on the roof before letting himself fall; jumping again and then ran before I heard breaking glass.

 _“They’ve got their torches lit,”_ Spider-Man said breathing a little hard. I felt him move, going towards another window. _“Thinker can’t give advice and I took out the blaster and the shaker.”_

“Okay,” said Daredevil. In the time I’d been paying attention to Spider-Man he’d moved, picking up long rods of metal and holding them at the ready.

 _“Wait,”_ I said to him. Bugs had set up lines and they’d finished connecting to one of the two. I had every bug stay still and only one flap its wings. “Hit the one with the fly.”

He nodded and waited, because the men were upstairs were still unloading shots towards us, not even paying attention to their friend who was on the ground. Though he hadn’t moved much since Daredevil had hit him in the head. There was a pause in the shooting and Daredevil opened the door, throwing the rod so it sailed up and hit one of the men. He stumbled back before he stumbled forward again, falling down the stairs and taking his friend’s gun with him.

Daredevil moved and I followed, bugs on the ground meant I could track the stairs. He threw another rod and it missed as the man was flailed, bugs starting to get into his nose and ears, going down his throat the moment he opened his mouth. Daredevil picked up his billy-club in passing and threw in one motion: It hit and the man stumbled back, Daredevil finishing it off by jumping and driving a knee into the guy’s chest.

“Cover the door,” I heard the thinker say, desperation in his voice. “Prick, cover the windows. The numbers are looking worse the longer we stay here.”

Hammerhead grunted before I felt him moving. I heard straining and the warping of something metal before Hammerhead moved again. The thinker didn’t say anything, but I felt him as he pointed.

“They’re going to throw a safe through the wall,” said Daredevil. He and I moved at the same moment. He jumped down while I flickered my pack, momentarily lighting up the place before it went dark. There was a crash and the walls shook as something large and metal tore through, moving with so much impetus that it crashed into the ceiling. When it fell it didn’t bounce, only sunk into the ground.

 _“You guys okay?”_ said Spider-Man.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Yes,” said Daredevil.

“What’s Prick’s power?” I asked. “Beyond blaster?”

 _“Shoots thin lights,”_ said Spider-Man. _“And there are_ a lot _of them. People go down when they’re hit.”_

“There’s also the shaker,” I said. “Red mist with heat but it didn’t hurt anyone when it went off.” Daredevil gestured with his head that we move and I followed, keeping track of the ever-growing number of bugs I was accumulating.

For much of this I’d been ineffective, following Daredevil and letting Spider-Man do most of the work, but I was doing more now. Lines that had been abandoned because of Smog were attached again by a swarm of bugs, I started attaching them to a greater network.

“Spider-Man. How good are your ears?”

 _“Pretty good, why?”_ he said. I stilled most of the bugs and had a few move under a large desk.

“I want you to pull that table,” I said, “move it with force.”

_“Lines?”_

“Yeah,” I said. Daredevil and I were on the other side of the building and he was focusing on a wall. He started pushing at sections of the wall before I felt it move, sliding out before moving to the side and revealing another narrow hallway with a staircase going up. Daredevil walked in and I followed. I really didn’t like this weather because if I’d had a full assortment of bugs, I would have known every crevice of this place. All of this would likely have been over too.

“We’re going up,” I said. “Wait until I give the word.”

Spider-Man nodded. He skittered down and jumped, landing and then picking up a rock. He moved up again connecting a thread to a position higher than a window and then connecting another to the rock he’d picked up.

 _“Something’s going to happen,”_ said the thinker. _“I don’t know what.”_

 _“Should I fill the place again?”_ said Smog, her voice laced with pain.

 _“It doesn’t help,”_ said the thinker.

 _“You got us out of that fucking place you can get us out of this,”_ said Hammerhead.

 _“It was different there,”_ said the thinker. _“There was a schedule and we knew what we were up against. It isn’t the same with them. We only just figured it out before they found us.”_

 _“You panicked then too,”_ said a woman but I didn’t know her name. _“But you trusted us and we trusted you. Extend that same trust here, now.”_

The thinker took a breath and then let it out, going silent.

Daredevil pushed faster, climbing the steps three at a time. We reached the top and he kept moving his fingers across the wall blocking us off. He must have touched the right place because mechanisms kicking into life and the door opened into an office.

“Now,” he whispered and Spider-Man moved. He threw a rock and it swung on a web, hitting the furthest window. I heard small pops going off before Spider-Man threw himself through a window, pulling at the table I’d told him to and throwing it out of a window. Lines grew taut and pulled on multiple fronts. Guns and the phones first, then the lines I’d drawn around people pulling them back before they regained their ground, tensing and keeping themselves from falling.

All of us acted: Daredevil and I ran, jumping through the glass window that walled us off from Hammerhead’s crew. Prick started to turn towards us but Spider-Man used the darkness to get close to the woman. He spun and kicked, throwing her off her feet and slamming into a far wall.

I felt as Smog started doing her thing but Matt’s billy-club found her head. A mound of bugs I had on the ceiling fell on the thinker, covering him in bugs and going into his mouth. Spider-Man was on the roof and he darted forward. He quickly fired at key targets, restraining the capes while Matt and I were taking down the henchmen.

We were quick, using the darkness to our advantage, not allowing them to fight back; the Swarm made an appearance, adding voices in the quiet and giving us distractions at the right moments. Spider-Man joined the fight but where Matt and I were taking down people with punches he was sticking them to the floors or stringing them up. In only a few minutes everyone was captured with only Hammerhead and Smog giving us trouble. The former seemed to move and snap Spider-Man’s threads, while the latter was burning through them with her power.

“Damn,” Hammerhead muttered before he started to bend and punch at the ground. Spider-Man quickly moved, jumping and kicking. He grunted because Hammerhead had taken the kick without so much as moving. Hammerhead didn’t so much as grunt as he grabbed Spider-Man by the leg and threw, my brother hitting the ground and rolling away.

Every bug was immediately on Hammerhead, biting and going for the eyes. The bugs that were biting didn’t make too much headway. As quickly as they were causing damage the wounds were healing. My bugs moved for the ears, eyes and nose, going for the mouth and clogging the throat. He bent and punched, denting the floor but it wasn’t enough to break through.

The bugs in his throat went for his uvula and he wretched. They moved it again and vomit spilled out, taking out some of bugs but leaving others. The bugs in his throat went for his uvula again because even with the strength he lost with throwing up, he was still able to punch at the ground. He wretched and threw up again, staggering forward and falling to his knees as more bugs found their way in, going for the uvula again.

Hammerhead made to punch the floor but Spider-Man caught his arm with a web and pulled, momentarily stopping Hammerhead from punching before the web snapped. He hit the floor but there wasn’t much strength to the punch. He pulled back for another punch, concentration wavering as he threw up again, giving enough time for Spider-Man to catch his fist with half a dozen strings of web, straining to stop him.

Smog freed herself and started getting up but Daredevil threw his billy-club and hit her over the head. This time she stayed on the ground.

Hammerhead pulled up his other hand to punch the floor and Spider-Man pulled, toppling him over to one side. He fell, made to get up but Spider-Man jumped and fired web shots, concentrating them so he wouldn’t be able to snap through them.

“Feds are almost here,” said Daredevil.

“Feds?” I said, getting a feel of our work. No one was dead, thankfully, and we hadn’t been hurt. But the safe sailing through the air, guns being shot at Peter and Hammerhead throwing him. I didn’t like it.

“Yeah,” said Daredevil.

I let out a sigh. “I don’t know your relationship with the law,” I said to him.

“It’s complicated,” he said. “You’re thinking I should leave?”

“If you want to,” I said.

“Two birds with one stone,” said Daredevil. “We can ask him about the boy. I’ll listen to his heart.”

“That’ll make him suspicious,” I said. “He might think it expedient to turn everything against us.” I shook my head. “I don’t like it, but…let’s trust…”

Daredevil nodded. He moved and I felt as he took Spider-Man’s shoulder. The room was still dark around us and though I could make them out through the bugs I had on them and focusing on the bugs that had better sight in the dark. Except it wasn’t exactly sight, it was a jumble of other senses that made a headache form when I tried to decipher them.

But I knew how my passenger worked, knew what it wanted and if I kept working on it while getting into trouble, then I might even be able to use that.

_Still working at me, aren’t you, passenger? Even when I know what you’re doing?_

Peter was going through something even if I couldn’t really see him. He was going through something and it had occurred during the fight. Had he come so close to death that he was starting to doubt this? But if I was being honest, that didn’t seem like Peter. So something else?

I took a breath and let it out. We’d talk about it. It was our dynamic.

I just had to focus on getting through the ATCU people when I felt a little on edge.


	33. Chapter 33

**Pentacle**

**5.4**

The Swarm had found her form by the time the ATCU had arrived. She had put on a humanoid figure while small bugs were tagging everyone they could, getting a sense of our surroundings. The ATCU had arrived in number, at least twenty people, all of them with pistols strapped at their sides and all of them wearing Kevlar.

It was scary to think about, that these people might have impure intentions and that they now effectively had us cornered. But I couldn’t think like that, because thinking like that increased the possibility of me doing something stupid.

Even now I could feel my agitation being transferred to the Swarm. More bugs were still incoming, others were retrieving the silk and web lines scattered around the place; the more invisible lines were being moved to the members of the ATCU and bugs were primed to wind lines around weapons, while the web lines were being kept in reserve. Bugs that were particularly affected by the cold were in the walls, clustered together so they could listen in on conversations.

I watched everything around us. The people without powers were just being cuffed with zip-ties while there was an entire setup reserved for the Inhumans. The ATCU had a small tank of oxygen and breathing mask which they were fitting around each of the Inhumans before carting them off to their transports.

“Careful with him,” I said as they were doing the same with Hammerhead. “He’s got enhanced healing. It’s not out of the question that whatever drug you’re using might burn quicker.”

“Got it,” said the agent in charge. She took the mask and tank, fiddled with some knobs and then gave it over to the people really doing the work. I watched them while still paying attention to my bugs, pushing off a bit of the panic that formed every time I noticed my power doing something on its own.

This wasn’t new, I knew, but after the whole Khepri thing, it was worth watching. I didn’t know how well the Faerie Queen had fixed me, and I didn’t want to miss a symptom of regression in my condition.

 _I’m still in control,_ I thought and I let that become a mantra as I paid attention to everything else.

Danvers appeared from the staircase, handing off an O-Pad to his assistant, a harried looking man who looked like he’d just woken up. His eyes took us in as he got closer, lingering on Daredevil more than Spider-Man, the Swarm or me.

“Crawling Critters,” he said, “and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Or are you part of the Critters?”

“It’s complicated,” said Daredevil.

Agent Danvers hummed, looking over the scene. There was a bit of damage but not too much, mostly broken window and torn electrical wires. The worst of the damage had been done by Hammerhead and his people, which was no fault of ours. Good jaunt, all things considered.

“You do quick work,” he said.

“We were lucky,” said the Swarm. “The right information in a timely manner.”

“Luck is a factor in this type of work,” Danvers said. “But skill and talent are another.”

“Flattery,” I said. “Moot when you’ve got us working for you in a capacity.”

“A good working relationship helps us both,” he said. “It helps you through legitimacy, something you’ll need if you hope to function as you are in the future; and it helps us by saving resources.”

I frowned, which he couldn’t see, so I titled my head, having the Swarm break into a large face so the same expression was plastered on her face. Danvers held out a hand and his O-Pad found its way there. Looking at it, it was a different design that what I saw on the market: It was a little thicker, more robust and darker. There was the sense that it could takea good fall.

Danvers flicked through it in quick succession before he turned it so it faced up. I took it and quickly read through it, a piece of legislation with the header, _Sokovia Accords._ Bugs clustered in the walls began to talk, reciting the words that I was skimming over.

“What is this?” said Daredevil.

“A bill, it’s being talked about in the UN,” said Danvers. “It’ll cover how heroes like the Avengers and any other group that form will work in an international front. It’s also being used a basis to form laws that govern things on our end.”

“Has it been ratified?” Daredevil asked.

Agent Danvers shook his head. “They’re still working through the kinks,” he said. “Using the whole inquiry that’s going on with the Avengers about things around Sokovia, South Africa and even the dissolution of SHIELD to get their footing.”

“Can we keep this?” asked the Swarm. “Read it over?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

“Web Crawler,” I said. “Can you give me a disposable e-mail address? I want to send you something?”

_“Is that me?_

“Yes,” I said.

 _“Okay. Give me a sec,”_ said Ned.

“You see why it’s important we work together, then,” said Agent Danvers. “If you read through most of this, or have it explained to you as I did, then you’ll get a strong sense that it’s about us watching you, making sure you don’t break the law and ultimately held accountable for your actions.”

“Vague,” said Daredevil. “What does that actually mean?”

Agent Danvers shrugged. “If you have lawyers then you can look into it,” he said. “On my end,” he shrugged again, “it won’t mean much of a change. Maybe I’ll have to work with more of you guys, but nothing above that. There are already strict laws that govern how I work.”

“Like laws that mean you disappear kids?” said Spider-Man, a bit of resentment in his voice.

“Disappear kids?” Agent Danvers said, the words slow. A sort of silence had settled between the six of us, only the cacophony of movement around us: More agents had arrived and they were booting computers and sifting through paperwork. Another man had on an exosuit with a claw-like protrusion he controlled with levers in either hand. When he was close to Hammerhead, the claw stretched out and pinched him in its grasp, straining as it started to lift him up.

 _What are you thinking, Peter?_ the thought came but it was _so_ far away. There was something wrong, I _knew_ it, but I couldn’t figure it out. Had he been hiding that this affected him badly? Or was it something else? I couldn’t help but remember his words to Ned at Matt’s place, that sometimes people chose to refocus instead of dealing with what was really wrong.

“Andrew Glendale,” said Spider-Man.

Danvers hummed. “You’re the reason I have the FBI looking into us,” he said, looking at each of us.

“We’ve heard that a kid disappeared and you were the most likely suspect,” said Daredevil. He moved a little, putting a hand on Spider-Man’s shoulder. “We thought it was the smartest thing to do, all things considered.”

“I mean, you could have just asked me,” he said. “If we’re going to be working together, even indirectly, I don’t get much by keeping you in the dark.”

“You could just lie,” said Daredevil. “After all, you haven’t really answered the question.”

Agent Danvers nodded. “Glendale is in our custody,” he said. “So are at least thirty other Inhuman criminals.”

“And have they faced trials?” Daredevil asked. “It’s their constitutional right to do so. If you’re detaining people without that, then—”

“I do what I’m told by my bosses, nothing more,” Danvers said. “They know the laws and I have to trust that what they tell me is within them.”

“That sounds a lot like you’re preparing yourself for the ‘just following orders’ argument,” said Daredevil.

 _“Fuck,”_ I heard Spider-Man mutter. I glanced in his direction and I wasn’t the only one. He looked tense, his gaze lingering on me before he looked down, his arms crossed.

Whatever problem he was having it was with me, which…my mind tracked back and I tried to find something that had happened that might make him feel whatever he was feeling. I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong…no, when I thought about it, I hadn’t done anything, but maybe I’d missed something? I pushed it away, making a mental note to remember to get to this.

“This sours things,” the Swarm said.

“Sour though things may be,” said Danvers. “We do need to work together. If we don’t, you might do something that breaks the laws and you’ll be branded criminals.”

“Worth thinking about,” said the Swarm.

Danvers hummed, holding his hand out. I asked Ned for the e-mail account. Danvers quickly sent an e-mail with the document for later reading. He left us without another word.

“Spider-Man?” I asked.

“It’s nothing,” he said. I gave him a long and he said, “I’m going to get some air.” He left, moving to a window and then crawled up a wall to the roof.

“I’m confused,” I said.

“It was the bugs,” said Daredevil. “It’s…he didn’t have his guard up and he heard them as they were clogging up Hammerhead’s throat. It was…not good.”

 _Fuck_.

I’d been going a little all-out, hadn’t I? For most of our career I’d been holding back, not having my bugs bite but serving more as irritants. In the eyes to restrict sight, in the throat to get them off-kilter, but with Hammerhead I’d gone above and beyond. He was a brute, meaning taking him down wasn’t a feat of strength but lateral thinking. I’d reacted on instinct and taken his strength by making him vomit. But it was a side Peter had not really seen of me before, remnants of the person I’d been.

I took a breath and slowly let it out.

_No matter how much you change, you’ll always be her, won’t you? The girl that became Khepri._

I took a breath and slowly let it out. “We were fighting a brute,” I said. “What I did—”

“He just tsked,” said Daredevil. “He’s irritated.”

Which hurt. “Why?”

“They’re listening in,” said Daredevil. “Maybe you two can hash this out another time?”

“Yeah. Yes,” I said, even as my mind tried to connect the dots. Why would he be irritated, I tried to divorce what I knew, the whole Khepri aspect and…I couldn’t find the point of irritation. Better to ignore it, focus on the way forward right now and then deal with things later. I looked towards Danvers and his assistant, both of which were watching over as Hammerhead was moved, the man with the exosuit doing so with excess care to not drop the larger man.

“He isn’t even hiding it,” I said, a frown in my voice.

Daredevil hummed. “That makes things worse all things considered,” he said. “It means they’re likely to have the authority to do whatever it is they’re doing.”

It was my turn to hum, low and not at all happy. “We need more information about them,” I said.

 _“I’m looking into it,”_ said Ned. _“Trying to get more information that isn’t from Bakuto. It’ll take a bit since they’re so new, but it’s achievable.”_

“Thanks.”

 _“I like the name,”_ he said. _“Thanks.”_

I smiled. “You were sort of dithering,” I said and shrugged. “It was better than calling you Chair Guy.”

 _“I like it really,”_ he said. _“It makes sense. Got the thing. The whole Sokovia Accords thing.”_

“I’ll have it ready for you in a day, maybe two,” I said to Daredevil.

“Thanks,” he said.

“So, how was it?” I asked. “First night out with us?”

“Not what I expected,” he said and he smiled a little. “I usually come out of these things a lot more beaten up. I don’t think they landed one punch.”

“Swarm’s very good at coordinating,” I said and smiled up at the face hanging close to us. “Setting things up for us to take them down.”

“I do my best,” she said.

“That you do,” said Daredevil. “You’re a lot more put together than I thought. It’s…hard connecting the two kinds of things that you are. The way you were speaking pre-mission and how you shifted when you got here.” I was about to ask about that when he said, “You were all over the place. It looked like you didn’t have focus, and then…”

He shrugged and then smiled.

“Spider-Man’s saying you’re more free-flow when it comes to planning,” Daredevil said.

“Spider-Man, I really don’t like us not talking,” I said. “It makes things stilted.”

Daredevil sighed. “I don’t like this, acting as go-between,” he said. “But I’ll say this for the last time. He doesn’t want to talk to you until what he’s thinking has crystallised.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what that means.”

“He says it’s complicated and he’ll explain after the chrysalis,” said Daredevil.

“I don’t think that means what you think it means,” I said and I smiled a little. “We’re too wrapped up in bugs, little brother,” I whispered.

“He says he loves you,” said Daredevil and he had a small smile.

“Me too.”

Spider-Man stayed on the roof while Daredevil and I went downstairs, watching the agents as they walked and trying to keep out of the way. They loaded the Inhumans into one transport, agents with their pistols held at the ready in hand even though their cargo was sleeping. Hammerhead was stowed in his own truck because he was too heavy to fit with the others. The henchmen were left to sit on the first floor, waiting for another transport that would take them to regular jail.

“Do you need us to tail you?” I asked Danvers. “Make sure nothing trips you up along the way?”

He gave me a look. “You’re still willing to work with us?” he said. “You sounded…prissy.”

“These people are criminals and we don’t want to see them out on the streets,” said Daredevil.

“Thought things would be better if we actually asked what was going on,” the Swarm said. “At least alleviate our fears that you aren’t kidnapping Inhumans for some forced-recruitment army.”

Danvers grinned, a natural thing that took away some of the hardness of his face. “That would be too hard to hide with everything around Hydra,” he said. “There are still investigations going on, looking into people that might be affiliated. If there was something untoward, it would have to wait until everything settled.”

“None of which is making me feel any better,” I muttered under my breath.

“Give me a bit,” he said. “Let me talk to people and maybe I can fill you in on what’s really going on. From what I’ve heard our Director has already filled in outside parties of our goings on.”

“That would help,” said the Swarm.

“Good,” he said, “and thanks for the transport, but I think we have it covered.”

The trucks left and with it a lot of the agents, but some stayed behind, taking in the scene and looking into things for their investigation. We watched a bit, with me taking everything in and getting a sense of the ATCU. I didn’t get much and it was pretty boring after a while.

“Spider-Man. You up for leaving?” I said.

I felt him moving and he jumped down, his arms crossed and slightly slouching as he came over to us.

“Yep,” he said, but his tone sounded dour. We moved as a group, Spider-Man carrying Daredevil and pulling me along with a web attached to me. I made sure to have my pack on so I wouldn’t add additional mass to the both of them.

We found the building our clothes had been stashed along the way, covered in Peter’s webs and muck I’d accumulated to ward people off. We changed and then parted, with Matt grabbing his own cab.

“Can I meet you there?” said Peter. “I still…” he took a breath, “…need to get things sorted. I’m going on patrol, clear my head.”

“Okay,” I said. “See you there.”

He nodded and then shot himself off onto a rooftop. I got a cab and went over to Ned’s place.

“Peter?” he said as I snuck in.

“Needs some time to think.”

Ned nodded. “What happened back there?” he asked. “I mean, I could hear parts of it, but that’s not much.”

“At some point we’ll have to build cameras into everything,” I said. “Maybe give you a live feed into fights?”

“That would take a very good Wi-Fi connection,” he said.

“Luckily we have Kamar-Taj,” I said.

“You know?” he said and he shifted.

“Know what?”

Ned groaned. “You know, sometimes you have this aura of knowing everything,” he said. “It’s easy to forget that some of it is just straight up lying.”

“Okay…” I said. “But that doesn’t answer what I asked. What am I supposed to know?”

“I’ve…sort of been going to Kamar-Taj in my off times,” he said. “At first it was about the Wi-Fi, and then…I started looking into astral projection and the work it would take to do it.”

“You’re interested?” I said.

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?” he asked.

“I get the utility,” I said. I frowned. “Is something else going on? Something I’m missing?” He shrugged again. I shook my head. “You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t.”

“And that’s okay,” I said. “What about the astral projection thing? Is that safe ground?”

“You’re not going to tell me to stop?” he said.

“Are you doing anything stupid?”

“I thought about getting high…”

“What?” I said.

“I read through books and it’s supposed to be easier to get into the Astral Dimension if you induce it,” he said. “I was looking into drugs that might help that and figuring out how to buy them.”

“You’re too young to get high, Ned,” I said.

“And Master Wong stopped me,” he said. “Hit me over the head and then just pushed me into the Astral Dimension. It was…oh, god, it was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done and I think I would have lost it if I’d done it on my own.”

“Yeah?” he said.

“It was…like…I was pushed out of my body, right, and then I sort of _drifted,”_ he said. “I could see my body and it was falling over, my astral form moving away. I tried to control it and I really couldn’t because I didn’t have an anchor point, there was no gravity. When I focused, I sort of felt these threads and I knew where the people closest to me were in an abstract sense: My Mom and Dad, a few aunts and uncles, grandparents, and Peter and you.

“I thought I was there an hour, just sort of drifting when it was all just thirty to forty-five minutes, because apparently when you’re untethered there, things just sort of _slow._ Wong eventually guided me through it. He got into the Astral Plane and had me use the connection between myself and my body to move.”

“That sounds incredible,” I said. “Has he been teaching you?”

“After the demonstration he had me go back to the theory, mindfulness exercises, that sort of thing,” he said. “He tells me he’ll induce it again and see how well I can move to my body before teaching me to get in there on my own.”

“This is helping you?” I asked. “With whatever you’re going through?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down.

“Then as long as you’re safe, keep on keeping on,” I said.

“Want to meditate?” he said. “You’re supposed to be getting into it.”

I groaned, because meditation was perhaps the _most_ boring thing I ever put myself through, especially when distracting myself with my bugs was so easy. But I sat, trying and failing to meditate even as Ned seemed to get the hang of it so easily.


	34. Chapter 34

**Pentacle**

**Interlude**

He heard a high-pitched _whir_ and sat up, glancing at his watch.

It was near midnight and he felt tired, the work of a week coming a head. He didn’t like it, but he’d lucked out, gotten embroiled in a larger plot that meant he could at least get a sliver of what he wanted. He knew that there was something in the road ahead, a catch that might rear its head at an inopportune moment, but there was time, and with time he could come up with a plan.

“Look presentable,” said Freddie as he sat up. At his side were his four most trusted employees. The Oxen stood at either of his sides, standing in a way set to intimidate. Not that it would mean much when he was at the bottom of this power play, when his operations had stalled while the others had continued. But there was a game to this, imagery he had to conjure and he wasn’t yet so powerful that he could just disregard it all.

Fancy Dan and Montana sat at either of his sides. The former sitting with a slouch that he fixed, only to settle into again a moment later; the latter sat on alert, his hand close to his side where his revolver was holstered.

Freddie schooled his expression, stopping the frown from forming.

They were eccentric, all of his people, and Montana more than the others. The man seemed to have a fixation with Westerns, something apparent in how he dressed; wearing a brown dusters coat that was worn with age, a cowboy hat and boots that clacked when nerves got the better of him. But as eccentric as he was, the man was professional. All of them were, the reason he’d chosen them as his lieutenants.

There was a clack, something heavy hitting the floor of the room just to their left and then the sound of movement. Three people clambering through a door-less doorway. The first was white, a buzz cut and a full beard, wearing a jacket that was a dulled yellow and a dark blue, on his left hand he wore a tech in the shape of gloves. The second was a bald, black man not wearing anything of worth, indeed the man seemed boring compared to the man with the glove and the greater presence behind him.

The Vulture was in costume, wearing an aviator jacket, brown slacks and boots with metal claws retracted so they stuck against his ankles; he wore a helmet that covered his face, leaving only glowing green eyes; framing him were his wings, dark metal that looked razor sharp, too large to fit through the doorway even if they were folded. As he walked, the wings detached and hovered back, coming to a stop in the middle of the room.

Vulture found his seat, taking off his helmet to show a greying man, his hair slightly balding. Judging it, Freddie thought the Vulture might be fifteen, maybe twenty years older than him.

Vulture glared. “Big Man,” he said, his expression pinched, derision in his tone. “You’ve got some ballscalling me here.” No anger, something almost close to irritation but not quite. Freddie kept himself from bristling.

“I know,” said Freddie, “trying to steal from you—”

“Was a pain in the ass,” Vulture interrupted. “I thought we had a good thing me and you, but you were just trying to get the drop of my guys.”

“And for that you have my apologies—”

“Which does what for me, huh?” Vulture said. “I lost good tech because of you, all that work and money, and I’m supposed to take ‘I’m sorry’?”

“It’s why I called this,” Freddie said. “To, amongst other things, make reparations while securing our collective futures.”

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m going to believe that,” Vulture said.

He’d been controlled through it all, but that word was a button. He felt the irritation, felt the need to lash out, go on the attack, but held back. It wouldn’t do any good, if anything it would show there _was_ a button to be pushed.

He stayed quiet, only taking in the man. There was an irritation behind his eyes, but it was lesser than the sharpness he could see. Was he prodding? Trying to get a measure of Freddie was when under attack? Or was he going to use this to gain some sort of advantage?

Freddie let the stream of thought run at the back of his mind while he felt the appearance of the second visitors. Cars outside coming to a stop and then doors slamming shut. Between night and the area they were in, it was quiet, meaning the sound cut through the air, giving advanced warning.

He listened to the sound of people incoming, more than five and they weren’t hiding their presence. They arrived a moment later, most of them young men in their early twenties or late teens, with the leader being the oldest amongst them. Tombstone was larger even than Raymond, the largest of the Oxen. he was an albino man dressed in biker leather jacket, open so it revealed his muscular chest beneath; tight jeans with a gaudy belt; and heavy boots. All of it in black. There was a dismissive air as he looked at everyone, finding a sit and throwing himself on it.

His people fanned around him, most leaning against walls and looking particularly bored.

“How’d you do it?” he asked when he was comfortable, looking towards Freddie.

“I didn’t,” said Freddie. “But it speaks to the people interested in this that they would.”

Tombstone nodded. “Elders said I shouldn’t muscle into your territory,” he said. “But stab me in the back again and even those Inhuman _freaks_ won’t be able to keep you from me.”

“What the fuck you say?” said Raymond.

“You heard,” said Tombstone. “You’re just looking for an excuse to pussy out. Because you know it’s true.”

“He’s baiting you, Ray,” said Ronald, the smarter of the Oxen. “Cool it.”

Tombstone grinned and shrugged, sitting back. “Worth a try,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to punch you fuckers in the face. Who we waiting for?”

“White Dragon and the Rose,” said Freddie.

“The gun-runner?” said the Vulture. “Is this supposed to be a move?”

“Yes, but not the way you’re thinking,” Freddie said. “I’m hoping to establish relationships. I’ll explain everything once the others have arrived.”

Vulture didn’t say anything, and there was only silence as they sat in waiting. It didn’t take too long before the others arrived: White Dragon was alone, wearing a skin-tight white costume with a red triangular part that started at his chest, getting smaller as it went to his stomach and stopping at his waste; red gloves which stretched to his elbows, the fingers ending in sharp claws; red boots; and a stylised dragon mask that covered his face, leaving only his mouth open. He looked _ridiculous_ but he strode in with a confidence that made the costume work.

Vulture only shook his head as White Dragon entered, while Tombstone took the man in longer than Freddie thought was appropriate.

“Hey,” said Raymond and Freddie couldn’t help but close his eyes, feeling the urge to sigh but temping it. He could just _feel_ that was the man was about to say would be supremely stupid. “Where’d you get your costume? Looking to get one too.”

White Dragon reached under the red part of the costume, which seemed to be a pocket, and he pulled out a small card, holding it between his fingers. He pointed his hand towards Fancy Dan and flicked his fingers, the card shooting out. Fancy Dan caught the card without trouble and handed it back to Raymond.

“Thanks,” said Raymond, shoving the card in his pocket.

White Dragon gave a nod and then took a sit, and there was silence again.

“So,” said one of Vulture’s people. Vulture didn’t look like he enjoyed the man speaking one bit. “Like, you guys have a name, right? Villain name, that sort of thing. But how do you get it to stick when you’re not the boss?”

Raymond grinned. “You’re thinking of a name?”

“Already have one,” the guy said with a proud smile.

“What is it?” said one of Tombstone’s kids.

“Shocker,” he said and he raised his fist. The thing crackled, arcing with electricity. “Because I shock people.”

One of the kids laughed. “Cute,” he said and Shocker frowned.

“Not what I was going for,” he muttered.

“But you’ve just guaranteed it’s gonna stick,” said the kid. “I’ll tell my friends. Tell them not to get shocked when they hear about Shocker.”

“Might have flowed better if you’d put _‘the’_ before it,” another said. “The Shocker.”

Shocker only looked down, frowning. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe—”

“Thank you,” Vulture said as the last of them arrived.

Rose was large, but relatively small against Raymond and Hammerhead. He wore all black, but unlike Tombstone who looked like he was about to go out to a rave, he was dressed in a suit and a silk mask. The only splash of colour was the red pocket square intricately folded and peeking out of his pocket.

“Vulture,” the man said. “Others.”

“Rose,” Vulture said.

“Big Man. You called us here. Reached _me,_ how?”

“Madam Gao is my sponsor,” Freddie started, better to get things out of the way.

“The one who runs Chinatown?” said Vulture.

“The very same,” said Freddie. “She…knew my organisation was facing capital issues because of the Crawling Critters—”

“Creeping Crawling Critters,” one of Tombstone’s kids said. “Spider-Man’s trying to make it be a _thing.”_

Freddie stopped, looking at the boy and then Tombstone, expecting him to step in but seeing that that wouldn’t be true.

“Yes,” he said and he took a breath, “them. She told me she might be indisposed with other business and she wanted me to take over her operations in Queens.”

“At least you’re finding a niche,” said Rose. “You won’t reach as wide when you next try to claim power.”

“Except if that is a corner stone to your personality,” said White Dragon, his voice soft and airy. Tombstone sat slightly across from the man and as he spoke, White Dragon had Tombstone’s full attention. “If that’s the case, then you’ll likely _reach_ even with the territories that you have, breaking truces that were formed between the Dragon Lords and Madam Gao brought into being when this city was still a child.”

“That would run counter to what I’m hoping for with this meeting,” said Freddie.

“Which you haven’t said,” said Vulture.

“I’m hoping for a coalition,” said Freddie. “Us working together so that we minimise the damage the Critters and any other heroes do.”

Tombstone snorted, looking away from White Dragon to Freddie. “You think because they took you down, we should be scared too?” he said.

“Yes, in all honesty,” said Freddie. “A matter of hours ago, the Critters successfully captured someone I was hoping would join our coalition: Hammerhead. Hammerhead had powers, strength, regeneration and an experimental treatment, I’m told, that’s resulted in him having unbreakable bones. He wasn’t the only power that the Critters had to contend against. He had four allies, all of them with powers: One was a man who could see the future; another a woman who could create burning smoke; another woman who shot out beams of light that stunned on impact; and the last a woman who could temporarily tell gravity to stop in certain areas.

“The five of them and over a dozen men should have been able to defeat the Critters and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and yet they couldn’t. They were beaten, systematically taken out and their advantages rendered null. I have to wonder what makes the rest of us feel any different?”

“I have countermeasures,” said Rose. “I’m nothing but a myth which works in my favour.”

“The FBI knows about you,” said Freddie, “and by extension the ATCU knows about you. The Critters and the ATCU are working together.”

“Fuck, _feds,”_ said Vulture.

“How do you know?” Tombstone asked.

“Utilising Madam Gao’s resources,” said White Dragon, “of which she has a considerable amount.”

Tombstone hummed. “Do you know who they’re investigating?” he asked.

“All of you,” said Freddie. “There’s a general sentiment that I’m out of the game.”

Rose took a breath and let it out. “What would this coalition mean?” he asked.

“Territories and sticking to our industries,” said Freddie, “sharing contacts in the case of overlapping industries. But more than anything it’s offering a pooling of resources in times of need.”

“That’ll just paint a larger target on our backs,” said Vulture. “The moment people think we’re an organisation, that’s about the time the Avengers start stepping in.”

“Not necessarily,” said Rose. “There going to be laws coming up and they’ll stall how the Avengers work.”

“You know about the Accords?” said Freddie.

Rose nodded. “I make sure to keep an eye on the terrain,” he said. “See if anything might negatively affect me.”

“For the rest of us,” said Tombstone.

“It’s a law, essentially, that will restrict heroes that aren’t government led,” said Freddie. “There’s likely to be push back and I think a majority of the Avengers might bethat. They, more than anyone, know how infested with Hydra the government is, and with Hydra being a worldwide organisation, I don’t think they’re likely to trust them even on an international front.”

“Doesn’t stop them from still being pains in the ass,” said Vulture. “Busting us and leaving the feds to clean everything up.”

“But there’s more room to argue,” said Rose. “The surrounding circumstances are illegal which increases the chance of evidence being found inadmissible. The Avengers won’t be gone, but they’ll be toothless.”

“Regulation will affect them,” said Freddie. “It makes sense for us to devote our resources towards the Critters and the ATCU.”

“Dealing with the feds, even if we’re working together, isn’t going to be easy,” said Vulture. “They’ve got more reach than we do. If we hit them hard then they’ll start focusing on us.”

“Bad for us,” said Tombstone. “Cause the whole government on our asses is worse than three heroes.”

“We’ll swamp them,” said Freddie. Because he’d already thought about this, aided by Madam Gao’s network. “They have a temporary holding facility in Manhattan and it’s filled with close to twenty Inhumans that were captured. As I’m given to understand it, Vulture had technology that lets him move through walls.”

“How do you know about that?” said Vulture.

“No doubt Madam Gao,” said White Dragon. “She knows _all_ Vulture. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she had some hand in every organisation that exists in the five boroughs.”

“Except the Jamaicans,” said Tombstone.

“Spies,” said Vulture.

White Dragon nodded. “I know what you’re thinking. My predecessors thought the same a long time ago. That you can root them out. It’s futile. She’ll _know_ in the end and you’ll have less people to run things as you do away with the spies. It’s better to just let go, continue as though you don’t know.”

Vulture said nothing.

“Swamp the ATCU and at the same time that’s going to be true for the Critters,” said the Rose. “They’ll have to deal with the more immediate criminal elements while we’re left to work in the shadows.”

Freddie nodded. “Work in the shadows to increase our hold,” he said. “Increase our influence and, above all, increase our knowledge base. I think one thing that hits us the most is that we don’t know how the Critters fight. So far it’s been guerrilla tactics, hitting quick and getting the job done, not giving us the time to prepare or counter. But as they deal with more varied threats, they become a known element. We’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. How they fight and how we might counter them.”

“Good enough plan,” said Rose. “But I’m confused, you could have done this on your own, worked at it without the rest of us knowing and likely succeeded. Yet…”

“More than anything I want Vulture to succeed,” said Freddie. “He’s the most essential of all of us because of the tech he provides. I wanted this so he has customers. I wanted this because I wanted him and you to speak. Guns are…on the out. The Swarm, in my last interaction with her, made it known that she detests them and would going against anyone who uses them. I think, if she hasn’t already, that she’s setting things in motion to take you down.

“Going by what she did to me, she’ll take away your resources, hitting any place that sells your guns. When that happens, I’m hoping you’ll meet with Vulture and the two of you will begin talking contacts. Furthering his capital and, in the process, allowing for more tech to hit the market.”

“It seems as though we are all pawns in your machinations,” said White Dragon.

“I suppose you can see it that way,” Freddie said and he shrugged. “I want great things for Queens and I understand that crime is a part of that. The five of us are the more controllable criminal elements that exists and things work better if we aren’t in competition. It means that we don’t hurt any innocents and means we aren’t picked off while we fight amongst ourselves. If that means directing things, then so be it.”

“You’re saying all this like we need help,” said the Rose.

“I was amongst the first that dealt with the Critters,” Freddie said. “I’d like to think I know them, if even a little.”

Rose nodded. “You’ve given me something to think about,” he said. “But whether or not I agreed to this, I’ll need time.”

“That’s all I ask,” said Freddie. He looked at the Vulture, the man was frowning, running his hand through his stubble.

“I’ll give you the beads,” the Vulture said, “and you can deal with freeing the Inhumans.”

“The Dragon Lords will assist,” White Dragon said. “Of course it goes without saying that we’ll keep the Inhumans we think might be beneficial to our operations.”

Freddie nodded. “As you so please,” he said.

“Understand, Big Man, that if you break established truces, Madam Gao’s protection will mean nothing and I will destroy you.”

Freddie gave a short nod and looked at Tombstone. The man wasn’t looking at Freddie, instead he was looking at White Dragon.

“I’m interested,” he said and he grinned, “in…establishing relationships.”

One of the kids behind him snorted, muttering, _cheesy_ under his breath.

Tombstone ignored the kid and said, “Vulture, we’ll need to talk weapons. Maybe at a discount between buds?”

“No discounts,” said Vulture. “I’ve been behind on my quota since that idiot tried to steal from me.”

“Twenty percent discount and I’ll subsidies it,” Freddie said.

“Good,” said Tombstone. “I’ll call your people,” he said to Vulture, coming to a stand. “Had somewhere to before this gathering shit. I’mma do that.”

He started to leave, him and his people, but the large man stopped, looking at White Dragon.

“You’re welcome to tag-along,” he said. “It’s a costume party so you’ll fit right in,” and he smiled. Not a grin as Freddie had become accustomed to.

White Dragon reached into the pocket on his chest and pulled out a phone, flicking it on and then off before he nodded.

“I have a few hours to kill,” he said. “I assume this is over?”

“We can discuss more after we’ve each had time to think,” said Freddie. “I’m thinking we meet in a day to discuss plans to infiltrate the ATCU facility.”

“That is acceptable,” said White Dragon. He bowed and left, Tombstone and his people following after him.

“Romances are a bad way to start this,” said Rose as he stood. “Opens it up to falling apart through fits of passion.”

“They aren’t the type for a long-term relationship,” Freddie said. “Too different.”

Rose hummed. “Good night, gentlemen,” he said. “We’ll talk again once I’ve had time to think.”

Vulture nodded, standing. “Think I’ll be leaving too,” he said. “Things to do.”

Freddie nodded, watching as they all left.

He sat back, letting plots form and quickly discarding them when flaws arrived. First a set back and now he was moving forward. True he wasn’t the boss, instead he was under someone whose goals were still unknown to him, but he would get through this with the upper hand.

Everything was coming along.


	35. Chapter 35

**Wreath**

**6.1**

Mrs Leeds, I could see, did not skimp on breakfast.

Spread out in front of us were three stacks of pancakes, bacon and eggs, toast and butter, a pitcher of orange juice and another with water. She wasn’t at the table with us., I could hear the shower running through a collection of bugs in the walls near their bathroom, and there was a bug station on a silk line stretching from the door to the door frame. Keeping track of her without it being too invasive.

It was with a relative sense of freedom that Ned said, “Money!”

“Money?” I said looking up. Peter did the same. He’d been on his phone, for that matter I was on my phone, reading through the Accords and transcribing them in braille for Matt. The work was on the boring side, but it took up most of my attention, which I liked. It meant I could ignore the elephant in the room.

“Yep,” said Ned. “Um…” He flicked through his phone. “Just got a link from Detective Smith with a PayPal account as well as the login information. It’s got seventy-eight hundred dollars in it.”

“Wait, was there a money deal on the table?” said Peter. “I don’t think that was what we talked about.”

“No?” said Ned and he looked at me.

I shook my head. “Wasn’t really looking for money from them,” I said.

“There’s a breakdown,” said Ned. “Fifteen hundred per Inhuman with twenty-five dollars per person with a warrant. There’ll be another tally for successful arrests.” He looked up and to me. “I don’t know if this is bad or good.”

“It’s money,” I said with a shrug. “I’m just wondering if there isn’t anything attached to it. Expectations that they have. Ask?”

Ned nodded and then went back to his phone. I turned back to my phone, reading through the jargon that made up the Accords and having my bugs transcribe them. Peter did the same, focusing on his phone while he absently went through his second helping of pancakes.

“I’ll also change passwords,” said Ned. “Maybe move the money to another account?”

I nodded. “We could use the money, get you that laptop you’ve been wanting.”

“Actually,” said Ned. “I was thinking about what you said and maybe we can hold off on the laptop and give Peter some parts?”

“Parts,” said Peter, through a mouthful of food. I scrunched my nose, shaking my head in disgust.

“Something we talked about before you came back,” he said. “Maybe giving me drones to watch with? I really miss a lot with only sound.”

“But that’ll mean you’ll have to review things,” said Peter. “You’ll still be mainly using sound. Unless we’re going to send it over the Internet, which...won’t that cost a lot?”

“Kamar Taj has free wi-fi,” I said.

“But that’ll mean a commute, won’t it,” said Peter.

“We can figure that out,” I said. “If we’re going to be paid for every successful arrest then we might have money to buy an Internet connection.”

Peter shrugged. He sighed. “How far are you?” he asked me. “With the Accords?”

“A good way in, but I’m not understanding a lot of it, and the little I do understand I don’t like,” I said.

“Um...you’ve read the part about secret identities?” he said.

I nodded. “You’ve got your reservations?”

“I mean... _Hydra,”_ he said. “It happened just a little while ago, but we found out that the government is filled with all these deranged people and now we’re suddenly expected to trust that there aren’t any more spies? Yeah, I have my doubts.”

“I’m rubbing off on you, brother,” I said, smiling, but my smile dropped as Peter frowned. It wasn’t the usual jokey frown, instead it was...like last night, as though he was tired and was barely holding himself together.

Ned, I noticed, was looking between us, which meant he’d also noticed Peter’s expression.

“Daniel’s back,” said Peter.

“Yeah?” Ned said, because I’d gone quiet. Peter had gone back to eating and looking at his phone.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Where’s he been?” I asked, because if I was quiet too long, I’d convince myself to say something. There was just so much I didn’t understand and trying to put together the pieces wasn’t helping.

“He didn’t go into too much detail but he’s chasing someone who did something,” he said, “and they’re dimension hopping. He’s taking a little break, now, visiting family.”

“D’you tell him we met his brother?” said Ned.

“Yeah. Told him that he was super sketchy trying to put us to sleep and he said he’d talk to him,” said Peter.

“That’s good,” said Ned and an awkward silence hung over us.

We ate, or at least pretended to eat. We looked at our phones, trying to immerse ourselves in our own little worlds but, at least for me, that wasn’t working.

 _“Okay,”_ said Peter and he let out a long sigh. “I mean...I haven’t really gotten this right. Daniel and I talked about it, but the talk was too short and he was a little distracted.”

“Should I leave?” said Ned.

“No,” said Peter. “It’s better if we just talk this out as a team. I feel like it could help all of us.” He sighed again. “I guess...it’s...I… _felt_ that what you did was wrong. It didn’t leave me feeling any good.”

I opened my mouth to speak but he held up a hand.

“But that’s not it, not all of it,” said Peter. “Last night...I was, I guess a little scared? I was in this space where I was weirded out, where there was this pit in my stomach and when I thought about telling you about it, I imagined what you’d say.

“It’d be something like: it was the most efficient thing to do. We can’t hit him directly, he was stronger than _me_ from the looks of it. Or at least hard to move, so we’d have to hit him indirectly. And you know what? I would have agreed with it, then, like, my meter of how far we can go when we’re doing something would go a rung up. I sort of had this mental scaling thing going on in my mind where I kept seeing that rung going up and up and _up_ until…”

“Until you were me?” I said.

“No,” he said, but the words were so far away. “Just…not _me.”_

“Isn’t that unfair, though?” said Ned, because I was stumped, held in place by the image of who I’d been. I was sure I could argue against it, but right now my memory seemed to flicker back to me in a sea of unknown faces, all of them angry, shouting and attacking. Since the Faerie Queen had helped me, things had re-contextualised. They hadn’t been angry and fighting, instead they’d been happy and hugging.

The memory of that state, of being _her_ was still enough to have me stop here.

I took a breath and _focused_ on every bug in my range. Instead of the low-level control I had over them, I held them in place, taking full control. Another breath, focusing on my body on how it moved. I tested my hands and fingers to see if they were still in my control. I felt the need to say something, test if I could speak but that would seem weird.

“You’re...closing yourself off from having your mind changed,” said Ned and he helped. He was speaking English and I could understand him, but that didn’t mean I could speak.

It was a baseless worry, but I could feel it around me, a boa constrictor that was slowly getting tighter. I could breathe, I _was_ breathing, and yet it felt like I couldn’t, like the world was closing in around me.

“Taylor?” said Peter. I gave him a look. “You look…”

“I’m fine,” I said, interrupting. A breath of relief left me because I could still speak. I was still more Taylor than I was the Queen Administrator. I was _me._ I took a breath. “You were saying, Ned?”

He was looking at me and he looked worried albeit confused.

“I... get panic attacks sometimes,” I said.

“That was a panic attack?” he said.

“Yeah,” said Peter. “Maybe we should stop this conversation.”

“Talking helps,” I said, paying attention to my speaking, to how my tongue was moving, the feel of it in my mouth. “Even if it seems like it isn’t.”

Peter opened his mouth and then stopped. “Mrs Leeds is coming,” he said.

It struck against my composure that I’d missed her. The line had been cut and the bug hadn’t reacted, only letting the winds sway it.

 _There’s only so much that I can do, isn’t that right, passenger?_ I thought. _I’m weaker without your help?_

I didn’t like it, but it felt true. I couldn’t focus on everything to the exclusion of my passenger. Like it or not, we were a team. When my focus drifted, focusing on key areas, my passenger took on a sort of macro control with a peripheral nudging from me.

Except there were those moments, weren’t there? When I was focused too much in one direction and my passenger did something of its own accord? What were the rules there?

Peter took my hand and I looked in his direction. He gave me a small smile and I returned it, even if I didn’t entirely feel it.

“Peter,” said Mrs Leeds, “as ravenous as ever.”

Peter gave Mrs Leeds a smile. “Helps that these are the second-best pancakes I’ve ever had.”

“Second best?” she said, a chuckle in her voice.

I shrugged. “Familial loyalties to the very end,” I said, steadily pushing the feelings of discomfort away. These feelings were a team thing and it didn’t make sense to show them to Mrs Leeds.

“If it’s worth anything, I think these are the best pancakes ever, Mom,” said Ned.

Mrs Leeds smiled, brushing Ned’s hair as she passed, going into the kitchen.

“You’re dressed up,” said Ned. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Your father,” she said and she shook her head. “He’s going gift shopping.”

“Dad is _bad_ at gifts,” said Ned to us.

“Now?” said Peter. “Almost _everywhere_ will be full.”

Mrs Leeds sighed. “Every year, Peter. Every year. If I didn’t love that man,” she said with a shake of the head. “I’d best be going. Stay out of the cold, yes?”

“We’ll mostly be playing more video games,” said Ned.

“And hopefully getting more sleep,” she said. “I heard you up at close to two in the morning. Sleep’s important.”

“We’re just maximising holiday time, Mrs Leeds,” I said. “Especially since we have to account for the weather.”

“Isn’t that countered by summer vacation?” she said.

“But that’s in the _summer,_ which feels like it’s an eternity away,” I said. “Right now, it feels like there’s a doomsday clock over our heads and its slowly ticking away before we have to go back to school.”

“No, we or _our,”_ said Peter. “I actually enjoy school.”

“What?” I gave him my most aghast expression. “Are you sure you have the Parker blood running through you?”

“Are _you_ sure that Parker blood runs through _you?”_

Mrs Leeds chuckled lightly, a sentiment not shared by her son who looked between Peter and me with confusion.

“What about you, then?” Mrs Leeds said to Ned. Ned’s brows pitched higher. “Your feelings on school?”

“I...think the correct answer is that I love school very much and I can’t wait to go back,” he said.

“That _is_ the correct answer,” she said. “Bye, kids.”

“Bye,” we said.

_Back to business mode._

“How do we move forward now?” I said. “We had a victory, do we stop, enjoy the season or enjoy the forward momentum?”

“Easier to enjoy the forward momentum,” said Peter. “There’s less work to get things started with the Tombstone stuff. We just have to talk to people, but it might—”

“Wait,” said Ned, shaking his head, looking between me and Peter. “I’m sorry, but what’s going on? Taylor has a panic attack and now we’re just treating it like it didn’t just happen. I’m…confused.”

Peter looked at me and he looked distinctly uncomfortable, but I was frowning. “It’s…a thing,” said Peter.

“Yeah, but…we usually talk about things, right?” said Ned. “But this is somehow different?”

“It’s a _complicated_ thing,” said Peter.

Ned frowned.

“Does this make you feel left out?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It sort of does,” he said, “but more than that, I’ve noticed that you sort of do this before, which is worrying, right? We watch each other? Balance each other out.”

“You can be blunt, Ned,” I said. “Nothing you say will be held against you.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier, though,” said Peter. “There is such a thing as hurting feelings even if it’s the truth.”

I looked at Ned and I saw the sentiment through his body language. Sometimes that wasn’t a consideration for me, at least not one that took up most of my attention. It was why Peter was important in a sense. He had a better gauge of when I was pushing too much.

“I might be overstepping,” said Ned.

“You can’t overstep, Ned, because you’re an essential part of the team,” I said.

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while because, I feel like I’m missing a lot,” he said. “And not only that but there are somethings that I can’t say, you know? Or like, it feels like I can’t?” He sighed. “I didn’t really think this through and I can’t say it right, but maybe we should do group therapy? A part of me thinks it would help us work together.”

“Can I ask what brought this on?” I asked.

“Not one thing,” he said. “Just…I’ve been watching and somethings make sense and others don’t. Sometimes I feel like there might be land mines I might accidentally step on.”

“Part of it is what just happened?” I said.

“Part of it,” he said and shrugged.

I nodded. “It’s worth looking into,” I said. “I might have said this before, but I think the most important part of all this is emotional health. Nothing against Matt, but…”

“Anger,” said Peter, “and a lot of it.”

“We’re arguably more powerful than him, I think,” I said. “Which means that sort of anger might be more dangerous.”

Silence descended. “You know,” said Peter. “Now it’ll feel sort of awkward to get back to work.”

“Movie?” I said.

“Christmas movie!” said Peter.

“No, _please,”_ I said. “There’ll be an Aesop about how Christmas is all about giving while missing the point at the end and just giving the kids gifts.”

“It’ll be _fun,”_ said Peter.

“And it’ll give you that endorphin rush of seeing someone who’s happy,” Ned said. “Knowing things are going to work out in the end.”

“I _do_ like that,” I said. “But…most of them are just _so_ cringeworthy.”

“Okay, then,” said Ned. “How about…we go all in. Choose a movie that’s so broken you can inject another genre onto it while still being a Christmas movie.”

“Which movie’s that?” I asked.

“Christmas with the Kranks.”

“What? I _love_ that movie,” said Peter. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s _wrong_ with it,” said Ned. “But if you watch it, then you sort of get the sense that the main guy…the father, is being _forced_ to enjoy Christmas whether he wants to or not.”

“What I like to call, the Grinch Syndrome,” I said sagely. “Where not enjoying Christmas automatically makes you a bad person.”

“Scrooge Syndrome is better,” said Ned. “Alliteration.”

“Oh no,” said Peter. “There’s going to a be rant, isn’t there?”

“I do _not_ rant,” I said. Peter gave me a look. I looked to Ned for help.

“You sort of do sometimes,” he said. “Peter does too, though.”

“What?” said Peter.

“I mean, both of you guys like explaining your thoughts,” he said. “Which, I get it, part of your personality. But when you explain your thoughts when you’re angry it’s a rant.”

“I blame _you,”_ said Peter.

“I mean you _could,”_ I said, smirking. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? You’re still doing it?” My smirk turned into a grin. “You’d be _so_ a James Bond villain when it came down to it. The hero would be like…. _this_ is your problem, and you wouldn’t be able to help yourself tell him your backstory and how you think through rant.”

“You’re worse, though,” Ned said.

“Yeah,” said Peter, with a smug grin. “We’d both be awful villains.”

“You know who wouldn’t be an awful villain, though,” said Ned. “The Swarm. She almost never speaks unless she has to.”

“That’s…” said Peter, “just a cop-out so you’re saying Taylor.”

“Which I appreciate and accept without over-thinking,” I said with a smile. “Yay on _Christmas with the Kranks.”_

“Yay,” said Peter.

“Goes without saying,” said Ned.

“And we have a bit of money to stream it,” said Peter.

“We won’t need it,” said Ned. “I’m still on my trial membership.”

We watched and all throughout the movie I had to hold back on going on a rant when it came to realism and the unhealthy dynamic that the movie perpetuated. Then there were the misunderstandings that could have been so easily avoid had the daughter just told her parents of her boyfriend in time, but my thoughts sort of twisted on that as I watched. The parents hadn’t called their daughter and told her they were taking a break from Christmas, which meant she really had no idea that she’d be forcing so much work on them in a short time.

But that still could have been avoided had the parents been honest, telling her that, ‘ _Hey, you’re not here and we’ve been spending so much money on this that we thought it was a good idea to go on a cruise. Sure your boyfriend is going to be disappointed but if this relationship lasts, then he’ll be able to enjoy Christmas next year.’_

But all of that would have been reasonable and would have meant no plot so we had no choice but to tread all of this.

To make things worse there was just so much _more_ that shouldn’t have been going on. Watching the movie felt like watching the sitcoms where parents ignored one of their children and it was treated as funny instead of being some form of emotional abuse.

My phone buzzed and I jumped with relief.

“Matt,” I said. “It might be important.”

“You want us to pause?” said Ned. Peter wasn’t paying attention to us, engrossed in the movie. I shook my head, walking away as I accepted the call.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s going on?”

 _“I’m giving you the heads up that I’ll be doing something with the situation with the ATCU,”_ he said. _“In a lawyer capacity.”_

“You’re worried about burned bridges?”

 _“Yes,_ ” he said.

I shook my head, walking to the fridge and digging for food. It hit me that these were the first steps in getting comfortable with mooching but I ignored it. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s not something I like and I don’t really care about working with the ATCU. Though we might have no choice but to in the future less we be branded criminals.”

_“The Sokovia Accords?”_

“Yeah,” I said. “Part of them is sort of forcing people to work with the government, revealing identities, that sort of thing. Another part is that they’ll have the authority to hold people indefinitely without trial in specific circumstances. Part of those circumstances being if the power is so dangerous as to be a large-scale threat, or if a trial would give room for escape.”

Matt sighed. _“That might be why they were so comfortable with telling us everything,”_ he said. _“If the world accepts laws like this, then it might be easier to push them through here.”_

I frowned. “I don’t know how we’d be able to fight something like this,” I said.

 _“Activism,”_ said Matt. _“Stop the law from being brought in in the first place. I’m thinking we could make this a human rights matter,” he said, “but how we go about that…I’m not sure. Can you give me a little time to think about things? But I’ll need those Accords first. E-mail me a copy, I’m meeting with a friend and he might be able to help.”_

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “I should be done with transcribing the thing by day’s end. We can meet then?”

 _“Okay,”_ he said. _“This’ll mean I won’t be able to take part in missions for a while, deal with this before it’s too late.”_

“You trust us now?” I said with a little smile.

 _“You’re skilled,”_ he said. _“I still want us to talk, see what you’re doing and where I can help, but…yeah.”_

“I think Peter would appreciate that,” I said.

“I do!” Peter said, not looking back.

“Eavesdropping!” I chided. “If there’s a small part of you that feels uneasy then know that most of the dangerous stuff is out of the way. We’ll mostly be talking to people to come forward about Tombstone now.”

 _“It does,_ ” he said. _“Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon.”_

“Bye, Matt.”

“ _Bye,_ ” he said and he dropped the line.

“Matt’s going after the ATCU for holding people without trial,” I said sitting down. “He’s also going to think up something to deal with the more…sketchy parts of the Sokovia Accords.”

“I know this might be stupid,” said Ned, “and we don’t trust the guy. But wouldn’t it be better to tell Bakuto about this and have him and his lawyers working on this too?”

“Pete?” I said.

He shrugged. “It doesn’t have to have anything with us,” he said, still watching. “As long as he’s at a distance, things are fine.”

I moved through my contacts and sent him a text of everything we’d found out already. I sat back, watching the movie and I just couldn’t bare it. I stood.

“I’m going to get to work looking over our witnesses,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I’m on work mode again.”

“Me too,” said Ned.

Peter groaned. “You guys,” he said. “Why—” He sighed again. “I might as well get started on those cameras.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Wreath**

**6.2**

“Oh. Oh, wow,” said the man. He was old, likely in his early seventies if not older, but he had the bearing to him of one who was used to work. The man straightened, looking at Spider-Man who hung upside down on the roof and then me as I slowly floated down, surrounded by blue light.

“Hello, citizen,” said Spider-Man.

“Um…Hello?” the man said. Caleb Coppersmith. He and his wife ran a bakery-cafe that was on the smaller end, so small that it employed only four people excluding the old couple. They weren’t on the higher end of success, but they had a loyal patronage, acquired through years of goodwill. They made enough money they’d earned Tombstone’s attention.

I gave a small wave, smiling even though he wouldn’t be able to see it with my mask. The cold had abated if only a little, but I was still wearing so many layers that moving was a little uncomfortable.

“How can I help you today?” he said. “If you wanted some pastries, we’re not open yet. Everything’s still being baked.”

“Thank you,” said Spider-Man. “But no. We were hoping you’d help us.”

Mr Coppersmith frowned. “I’m not sure how you’d expect me to help you,” he said. “You’re… _superheroes.”_

“And you’ve had dealings with a villain,” I said, my voice filtered through bugs. Mr Coppersmith looked in my direction, his expression slipping into fear. I shouldn’t have spoken.

“Tombstone,” said Mr Coppersmith.

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man. He cut the thread and dropped, landing near silently. He stood; he was getting a little taller than me. “We’re gathering a case against him, trying to get witnesses to test—”

“No,” said Mr Coppersmith, shaking his head and holding his broom tighter. He stood tall, taller than Spider-Man and me, but he was slightly leaning on one leg.

“He hurt you?” I said.

Mr Coppersmith’s shoulders squared. “Yes,” he said. “He was young, then, and didn’t have the clout. I called the cops and do you know what they did? Laughed me off.”

“Things are different now,” said Spider-Man. “People know that extraordinary things happen. Inhumans are real and so are powers. He can be convicted.”

Mr Coppersmith snorted. “You’re right. Things _are_ different,” he said, “Tombstone is stronger. He has his own gang now and he has _people_ working for him. For all I know that kid on the other side of the street might be one of his.”

I looked back and I saw a teenager, listening to music and looking at their phone. It was a boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, wearing very loud colours. A moment later another boy arrived, the two shared short words before they left, never once looking in our direction. There was nothing suspicious about them. Even so, I tagged them with bugs.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But…this place has survived by working with things as they are. I’m not about to stick my head out just because you’re coming to me.”

I let out a sigh, overlapping with Spider-Man’s.

“Can you not tell anyone, at least?” said Spider-Man. “If Tombstone finds out he might intimidate people before we get to them.”

“If he asks, I’ll tell him,” said Mr Coppersmith.

“Our card just in case,” I said, reaching into my side and pulling out a card with a number. It wouldn’t go directly to us but a small team of two that would be dealing with the calls.

Mr Coppersmith took the card, looking it over while we left. The moment we were out of sight he scrunched it up in a ball and threw it in a bin.

“Lost another one,” I said when I settled on the roof.

Spider-Man slumped a little. “I don’t like this,” he said. “I thought people would be all for this. Us talking to them and saying we’ll help.”

“If good things happen after a long time of wallowing in a mess you think it’s a trap,” I said. “Or at least it’s not going to work out. The other shoe’s going to drop.”

He sighed. “Suppose that makes sense.” He reached into a small pouch at his waist, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it. “Three more and then we take a break?”

I nodded and started at a light jog while Spider-Man pulled ahead, jumping between buildings and swinging away. He could have strung me along or even thrown me for speed, but I wanted the feeling of running, warming by body through action. I ran and flicked on my pack when one building ended, gliding along until I landed on another.

I paid attention to Spider-Man who’d reached the edge of my range, not going directly to our mark but patrolling. Ned had picked up chatter on forums of people speculating about the decreased patrols. It wouldn’t be out of the question to use the opportunity to commit a crime, which meant we needed to increase patrols.

The streets below were filled with people going about their business and that was opportunity enough to make a seen. I ran a little faster and jumped, flicking on the pack and sailing over four lanes of traffic. I hadn’t been moving too fast and with the sudden flash of blue light people noticed. I felt as more than a few pulled out their phones and started recording. I landed on a building on the other side of the street and continued running, keeping close enough to the edge that people could still see me as I ran.

It took me fifteen minutes in all to reach our next target. I jumped and flicked the pack on and off, adding more downward momentum while making sure that it didn’t overwhelm me when I landed. Spider-Man had already arrived. He was inside the restaurant and was talking to a burly woman.

The employees of the place noticed as I entered and so did the woman, though her attention didn’t stray from Spider-Man.

“Do you have any idea what he can do?” the burly woman said. “He has powers.”

Nora Zanotti. She ran an Italian restaurant. She’d inherited the place from her mother, who’d inherited it from Nora’s grandfather. There was a story behind the place that he’d started with nothing, working until he’d been able to buy this place.

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man, “and we think we can deal with him even with.”

 _“Think,”_ Nora said, shaking her head. “This place is my family’s legacy, Spider-Man, and to gamble on it when I don’t have to?” She shook her head again.

“But it’s not needless,” said Spider-Man. “You doing this is the first step in ending this for whoever takes up this place after you.”

“Or it could just be putting my place on the line for nothing,” said Nora. “It’s too much of a gamble. I’m not willing to do it.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” I said. “We could show you that we can take Tombstone down.”

“And what about everything else around him?” said Nora, giving me her full attention. She had hard grey eyes and a hard expression. She reminded me a little of Bitch, giving me the sense that words wouldn’t convince her.

“He worked for the mob before this,” Nora continued. “There might be a few people invested in making sure that his organisation continues.” She shook her head again. “It’s just not worth it.”

Spider-Man sighed, but still gave her our card. At least she had the decency to keep it before I felt her giving it over to one of her staff.

“This is starting to smart,” said Spider-Man as we got to the roof.

“Wait, there might be something going on,” I said. “She gave the card to one of the people. There aren’t enough bugs for the Swarm to hear anything.”

“Listening in,” he said, his head tilted so that he was directing his ears to the building below us. The entire street was filled with businesses, most of them dealing with food, and they were all clean enough that they didn’t have many bugs. I could have pulled some in, but I didn’t want to take the chance of messing something up and having a place’s grade drop because of me. It was one of the reasons that the Swarm wasn’t making an appearance.

It felt a little disconcerting to just stand there, not being the one collecting the intelligence but I took my time paying attention to the other bugs I had in my range, feeling out any place that might have an infestation and dumping the bugs into the sewers.

Spider-Man looked up. “One of the staff made a call,” said Spider-Man. “Tombstone knows about what we’re doing.”

I let out a sigh. “That makes things a little more complicated,” I said. “He might start intimidating people to stop them from coming up against him. Though that might work in our favour. If he pushed too hard people might not have a choice but to come to us.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel too good about that,” said Spider-Man. “It increases the chance people might get hurt.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m not sure what other move we had. Maybe we can get Ned to start looking for Tombstone? Or use police resources?”

“I thought we didn’t like them with everything the ATCU’s doing,” said Peter.

“They’re still a resource whether we like them or not,” I said. “Stops people from being hurt.”

“Even if there are a whole lot of different people that are getting hurt on the other end.”

I shrugged. “Even so. Does it look like the employee’s going to leave?”

He shook his head. “At least we know more now,” Spider-Man said. “This is the second time that they’ve been on the lookout for a teenager. Maybe he uses them a lot.”

“You have that _I might have a stupid idea_ tone,” I said.

 _“Well,”_ said Spider-Man. “Teenagers that go the crime route often do it because they have a reason, right? There are some edge cases, people that like the thrill of committing a crime or whatever, but it’s more the case that they have a reason. Hard home life or maybe they’ve been disowned or whatever.”

“I feel like I know where this is going,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man. “Bakuto. He deals with kids and it’s not out of the question that there might be overlap.”

“You know that the devil starts slow, right?” I said. “Small deals that ramp up until you’ve sold your soul.”

“That is a danger, but what other choice do we have?” he said. “It feels like we’re working with devils on both ends. Bakuto and the ATCU. We can at least use their nefarious influence to do some good.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Spider-Man sighed.

“You’re upset?” I asked. “Me saying this plays into what you were feeling before?”

He shrugged. “I’m a little worried that since what I feel is nebulous, I might treat everything I feel like a symptom,” he said.

“We should find someone else to talk to,” I said. “If Daniel is busy.”

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man. “I think this working things out on our own might mean we focus on somethings while missing others.”

“Should we continue this or start outsourcing?” I said. “We might spend more time with November.”

“I think she might still be on her date,” he said.

“Never really asked what you thought about that,” I said as we started walking on building tops. Spider-Man walked on the ledge, easily balancing on the thing as he looked in my direction, not really paying attention where he was walking.

“What _can_ I feel?” he said with a shrug. “November’s happy and that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, but what about Bernard?”

“What about him?”

“You liked that ship,” I said. “You were invested in it.”

“But what good is that doing? Being…” he took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Being invested in a ship that can’t _be._ It would be selfish.”

“Yeah, I get that,” I said.

Spider-Man looked at me. “I have a feeling you don’t have the same feelings.”

I shrugged. “I have this sort of conceptual understanding of what it’s like not to move on from a losing a former shipmate,” I said. I thought about Dad and sighed. “People can sort of _stop,_ you know? Move on in some ways, but not enough that they’re happy. I don’t want that for November.”

“Even if it feels like she might be forgetting about, what did you call him? Brenner?”

“Bernard and I don’t think it’s that,” I said. “I don’t think you can be in a relationship as long as they’d been and just forget that.”

He sighed. “Guess you’re right,” he said. “I do like the guy, though. He seems good.”

“Yeah. It’ll be an experience spending Christmas with him.”

“Maybe we can invite him over for dinner pre-Christmas?” said Spider-Man. “Show him that we’re okay with him and November?”

“Good idea,” I said. “Either way, let’s get back home. Web Crawler’s got it right having some family time.”

“Well, he’s the type that actually celebrates Christmas,” said Spider-Man. “This is new for us. Mostly it’s been doing stuff, what did you say to Mrs Web Crawler? Maximising holiday time?”

“Yeah,” I said with a small smile. “Make calls while we walk?”

“I’ll deal with the Smithsonian,” said Spider-Man.

“I’ll just text Bakuto,” I said. “Lessen the influence?”

He shrugged. “That might be more stopgap than anything,” he said. “But I don’t have a better idea right now. There are a lot of scared people and I want to make sure that’s gone as soon as possible.”

“Ditto,” I said. “Maybe let’s try another place? See if it works?”

“Yeah?”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” I said.

We didn’t stop at one, though. It was almost a compulsion to keep pushing and I could see it warring on Peter the more nos we got.

“Yeah, this isn’t working,” he finally said. “I…need something wholesome.”

“Su’s been bugging me about going ice skating with her,” I said. “We could do that.”

I got the sense that he was smiling. “I like her,” he said. “I think she’s good for you.”

I snorted. “Don’t know what that means and I’m not going to dig into it.”

“Just that…I feel like she’d be able to keep you out of your head if you let her,” he said. “If you hadn’t noticed, dear sister, you think a lot.”

“I’ve heard this oft said,” I said. “And I shan’t disagree.”

“You know,” he said. “Ever since the Devil I’ve had sort of this paranoia about being overheard. The right mix of powers, you know? I’m just wondering right now, what a thinker’s thinking hearing us talking like this?”

“Most likely looking for as many data points possible,” I said. “Looking for things to pin us down. It’s why we have all of this code, dear brother. Obfuscating while still getting the context.”

“Pff. I _get_ that,” said Spider-Man. “I was just thinking about the story behind it, if that make sense. Trying to get into their heads.”

“Why?”

“Directing thought?” he said and shrugged. “That and I’m interested. People don’t _just_ do bad stuff, right. So I sort of wonder what’s driving them. Like, _this,_ any thinker trailing us would have to have a lot of resources. We’re both good at getting across the city so they’d have to go through all that effort to keep us with us. _Why?”_

“Crime is…as complicated as people are,” I said. “Like, there are many reasons to be a hero. Sometimes it’s pure, like you, wanting to good for goodness’ sake—”

“You too, though,” he put in. I gave him a smile he couldn’t see.

“But for others it might be because it’s a job and it pays and they need the money, I’m thinking police officers and fire fighters—”

“Got that.”

“—while others it might be something they hate but it’s something they’re either good at or the only thing they could get, or with many, environmental pressures. While for others it might just be for glory. For a simplistic view you just flip all the hero things to get villains.”

Spider-Man chuckled, shaking his head. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you,” he said. I might have looked too fast in his direction, feeling my heart rise just a little. Spider-Man seemingly didn’t notice because he continued, “You say things that when I think about it don’t make sense.”

“Don’t make sense how?” I was surprised at how calm I sounded.

He shrugged. “Goes back to the whole stories thing,” he said. “We don’t go to the same school, so there’s like this other part of your life that I don’t know about that I have to figure out. But sometimes it’s like…where does this come from? What series of cause and effect made her think like that?”

“You sound like you think about this a lot,” I said.

“Eh,” he said. “Just stuff I do when I’m bored or when I want to be bored. Boredom’s supposed to be helpful or whatever.”

“Sacrilege,” I said. “Boredom is boring. That’s why we _all_ don’t like it.”

“Some people say that that sort of thinking is very good at getting you in sort of an idea space,” said Peter. “Like…your mind wanders, reaching and grasping, and in that state, it might latch onto something.”

“That sounds…. airy-fairy.”

“It does,” he admitted. “But the more you learn about humans in general the more you know that the ideas we have are airy-fairy.”

“But isn’t that because we don’t understand things yet? I’m sure people in the middle-ages or whatever, thought things staying down was airy-fairy.”

“I’m sure that was because they thought the earth was flat,” said Peter.

“Do you want me to tell you something embarrassing?”

“I’d _never_ stop you from doing that,” he said.

I took a breath and let it out. “Sometimes…sometimes my brain just decides it doesn’t _buy_ something even though there’s evidence that it should.”

Peter jumped off the ledge and got closer, hugging me and then jumping across the street. The jump wasn’t too high, not enough to clear the street and he didn’t move to throw out a web. I flicked on the pack and we sailed forward, I cut it off and he took the brunt of the landing without even grunting.

He shook his head. “I don’t get that.”

“Okay, _so,_ the other day…I can’t exactly remember what I was doing, but I saw this person running, their morning jog or something—”

“In this weather?”

“I might have been passing a gym,” I said, shrugging. “That’s not the _point.”_

“Okay,” he said with his arms held up.

“Okay, so, they’re running and then my brain’s like, _I don’t think running’s faster than walking.”_

Peter’s head whipped in my direction. “What?”

“Right?” I said. “So I’m there, just…running this through my head and I’m like, what? Brain are you serious? You _know_ that running’s faster than walking. And I can feel this stubbornness in me just shaking its head, _firm_ in the belief that running wasn’t faster than walking.”

“Brains are weird,” said Peter.

“Tell me about it,” I said. “So I’m there, having to _convince_ myself that running’s faster. I look at the evidence, that a jogger was passing a whole crowd of people that are walking, and even _then,_ my brain was like, _nah, it’s just a trick of the light.”_

Peter snorted. “Just like your brain,” he said. “Do you still believe that? That running isn’t faster than walking?”

I shook my head. “I had to run, paying attention to the people I was passing before my brain finally got it. Even then it took some work, there were all of these things that my brain kept coming up with, giving more weight to them if that makes any sense?”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said. “There was this thing I read or heard about people with split brains—”

“What?”

“It’s a thing, okay?” he said. “And it’s fascinating. Suffice to say, it isn’t out of the question to feel strange about it after hearing it.”

“Cliff notes?”

“This is bastardised, but there are two ‘beings’ in your brain and they communicate with each other through a link,” he said. “Only one of those being can talk to you and they generally tell you what the other is doing. But if that link is cut, then one of those beings can’t communicate with the other and do you know what the other does?”

“What?” I said.

“Totally forget about them. When the connection is cut, the being that can communicate just totally forgets about the other and even when the other being does something, the part that can communicates just comes up with reasons to prove that _it_ was the one that made the decision in the first place.”

I let out a shaky breath, thinking back to being Khepri, as I slowly eroded and my passenger took the helm. “That is _terrifying,”_ I said.

“Tell me about it,” he said. “Had an existential crisis after hearing about it. Then I quickly forgot about it.”

“It’s the Communicator,” I said. “Keeping the Silent down, making sure their contributions aren’t felt.”

I was joking, but I didn’t like thinking about it, that there were more pieces in my head, that above and beyond the passenger.

 _You could tell him,_ a part of me thought, maybe the Communicator, or a joint decision by both the Communicator and the Silent? _Him and May._

I clamped the thought down. Telling meant the possibility of losing them, the possibility of being alone. I didn’t want that.

“Wanna go to the Amazon?” said Peter.

I gave him a look.

“You seemed worried about Spot,” he said. “Him sleeping a lot and you don’t like the cold. We could make it a hiking thing. Maybe talk without the whole having to worry about a thinker.”

“Something special you want to talk about?”

He shook his head. “Just some big brother, little sister time,” he said. “This is a brown note, but I like what just happened, it made me aware that we haven’t talked about sweet nothing in a while, and I want more of it.”

I thought back and, “We have been focusing the job a lot, haven’t we?” I said. “We’re scheduled for…um…self-reflection? We had a victory with Hammerhead.”

“Feels like there’ve been a lot of things piling up, yeah,” he said. “We’re growing a little too fast and now we have to put more effort in. Not that I regret it.”

“Because of course you wouldn’t,” I said. “Yeah. Let’s. Then dinner with May to cap things off. _Really_ get into the whole Christmas thing.”

“Woo,” he said.


	37. Chapter 37

**Wreath**

**6.3**

_“_ I needed this,” I said as we walked into heat _._

I focused on Spot, the part of him that told me a little about how his body worked. Before, he’d been spending a lot of his time with the ‘hibernation’ switch of his mind turned on, but now he was unfolding, more energy running through him as he sucked up the heat. I couldn’t parse _happiness_ from him, but he certainly felt more alive.

“Not even here a few minutes and I’m already sweating like a pig,” said Peter. I turned in his direction. “Privacy, please. I’m gonna change.”

“Right,” I said looking forward and feeling out the bugs in my range. I hadn’t felt this many bugs since winter had rear its ugly head. I started moving them so I could have a topographical image of the area, paying attention to the ants and fleas and ticks, making sure that I had every eventuality covered.

“Hey,” he said and I felt as he landed on the ground after a jump, his feet digging into dirt. “Do you think that Kraven guy’s still here?”

“Why would he be?” I asked, moving and going behind a tree. I opened my backpack and Spot scurried out, taking to the trees. I pulled off my layers until I was wearing only a shirt that I’d worn so many times it was several charges too big. I pulled out shorts and quickly changed into them.

“Why was he here in the first place?” Peter asked.

“A part of me wants to say you have a point, but… _no,”_ I said. “That doesn’t feel right. Like, the one thing isn’t evidence of the other.”

“You have a point,” he said. “I think it’s, um… _damn,_ I forgot the word. Remind me?”

“Remind me to remind you?”

“If I remember,” he said and we shared a smile. “We should have bought boots.”

“You know you’d be feeding into Ned’s argument that we’re spend happy.”

Peter groaned. “I think I really don’t like that because it’s true,” he said. “Now I have to keep watching my habits and make sure he doesn’t get the sweet, sweet satisfaction of seeing that he’s right.”

“Being right is its own sort of satisfaction,” I said. “I think Ned’s riding off of that.”

“And you know what’s worse? He won’t say I told you so.”

“How is that worse?”

“Because I _know_ he’s thinking it!”

“Okay, there, mind reader,” I said.

Peter came to stand next to me.

“How are we looking?” he said.

“A lot of dangerous things around us,” I said. “A few snakes. A lot of bugs. I think there might be a tiger of something in that direction,” I said pointing.

Peter grinned. “Let’s track it,” he said. “Piggy-back?”

“I’ll walk thanks.”

“But that’ll take _so_ long.”

“You can leave me,” I said. “Circle back?”

“That defeats the point, doesn’t it?”

“We have…” I glanced at my watch. “Three hours before dinner with May and Adam. There’ll be more than enough time to trek together.”

“Okay,” he said and he lunged up, grabbing a thick branch and pulling himself up. He jumped again, caught another branch and pulled himself further up until I could only track him through my bugs. Then he moved, jumping through the trees and scampering through small openings while trying to make it fast.

It wasn’t as graceful as he usually moved and I felt as a few bugs on him were scraped off. I started at a walk, listening to the sounds of the Amazon. There were bugs and a lot of them, so many of them different from those in New York, but I held back the urge to take them with me. It was trouble enough keeping the spiders I’d collected from Daniel, any more and I might have to worry about bringing foreign bugs into New York and messing with its ecology.

Peter got back fifteen minutes later, landing and then walking with me.

“Um…stupid question that we probably should have talk about before walking away so long, but…how do we find the portal if we go too far?”

“Intricate webs that the bugs I have scouting are bound to hit,” I told him. “We won’t get lost. Except if something disastrous happens.”

“Don’t temp fate,” he said.

I held my hands up.

“There are _so_ many birds here,” he said. “So many different species. It makes me wish we brought binoculars or something.”

“Didn’t think of it,” I said with a shrug.

“Where’s Spot?”

“Frolicking,” I said. “Eating. Generally sucking up the sun.”

“Aren’t you afraid of birds eating him?”

“I mean I could just get another,” I said with a shrug.

Peter gasp. “Taylor. He’s our _pet.”_

“I mean _you_ see him like that,” I said. “To me he’s just another bug I have in my arsenal.”

“But we named him and everything. We’ve already personified him.”

“You have,” I said.

“You too. You switched from calling Spot, _it_ to _him.”_

“Have I?” He nodded. “Damn, that’s annoying. What happens if he’s on a mission and he dies?”

“I’d rather we not think about that,” he said.

“But more than that, it feels a little hypocritical,” I said. “If I feel this about him, what makes the millions of bugs in my range any different?”

“Because…they’re just bugs,” he said.

“And _he’s_ just a bug. Only difference is that he’s bigger.”

“And he has personality,” said Peter.

“I’m doing that,” I said, “giving him the personality. Spot just wants to get away from us most of the time.”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Now you’re just making me feel horrible.”

I shrugged. “You’re growing up, baby bro, gotta show you how the world really works.”

“I’d rather still believe that inanimate objects come to life when we leave the room,” he said.

I snorted. “I remember watching this animated skit of a couch that came to life. It was chilli day and you know what that means. The couch didn’t seem to like it.”

Peter gave me a look. “Just like you to turn things bad,” he said.

I shrugged. “Just stretching things out to their logical conclusion, baby bro.” He glared but it didn’t have any heat. “Our tiger’s moving.”

“You know, I don’t think it’s a tiger,” he said. “Aren’t tigers mainly in India.”

“But it’s a big cat,” I said. “It’s not a dog, at least. It doesn’t feel like one.”

“Right, I forget sometimes that you’re the dog expert,” he said.

“Not an expert, but I know me my dogs.”

“Piggy-back so we can at least see it,” he said. I nodded and I got on his back. He moved slower than he had before, jumping from tree to tree and going up as much as he was moving forward. He took us through closely clustered branches until we were above the trees and I saw for the first time how _lush_ everything was.

“It’s crazy that I forget to look through my eyes sometimes,” I said. “This is _beautiful.”_

“Yeah,” said Peter and it sounded like he was smiling. “Can I ask you something about your power? It might be linked to your mental state?”

“Um…sure?”

“Do you think it’s the reason you’re in your head so much?” he said. “Like…I’m not sure how to say this—”

“I get it,” I said and sighed a little. “I can multitask, like _a lot._ I’ve lost track of how many streams of thought I can have at any one time, but it sometimes feels like there’s always extra space to think about other things. Like, if I’m having a bad day and I want to escape thinking about it—”

“Then you have to fight me and I have to _really_ get into it,” he said and nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I guess I sort of unconsciously knew it, but I just wanted confirmation,” he said.

“All to figure out my story?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I feel like this is new, this story thing. Or have I missed it?”

“Nah, it’s…I was reading something,” he said, stopping as we jumped over too large a gap. The cat moved faster now, likely knowing we were after it and I gathered a cluster of bugs that started pointing out the way. “That sometimes we’re unfair to people because we never imagine that they have a story behind their actions. Which is hypocritical or disingenuous, I’m not sure which word fits right, because we can recognise it in ourselves.”

“Example? I’m not getting what you’re saying.”

“Like. Someone bumps into you and you think they’re an ass or something. But if you bump into someone, you’re not an ass, but it’s because of _something._ You’re in a rush because you’re late and you’re a little tired because didn’t sleep on time because you were studying or something.”

“So you’re putting more of an effort to figuring people out?”

“Not figuring them out exactly but thinking that there’s something there that I don’t know about,” he said. “Something driving behaviour.”

“You are a fascinating creature, brother mine.”

“It might be a grass is always greener type thing,” he said. “I think _you’re_ fascinating.”

“Really?” I cooed.

“Don’t grow a big head,” he said.

I chuckled. We dropped lower and though the cat was running, we had more mobility. It was a jaguar, so large that it surprised me and it moved with a grace as it tried to get its distance.

“I think that’s enough,” said Peter. “We’ve scared the poor thing enough.”

“Crocodile in the river there,” I said. “It’s sunbathing.”

Peter changed direction. We met a crocodile or maybe an alligator, we both knew the difference had to do with the snout, but we couldn’t remember the intricacies and couldn’t decide which it was. Then an anaconda, which Peter couldn’t help but pet. We stayed above the treeline for a while watching different birds before our time ran out and we went back to the portal.

The moment we stepped through my phone buzzed, twelve texts from Smith, five from Ned and a flurry of missed calls.

“Can’t rest, can we?” Peter muttered.

I shook my head. “We’re not the right kind of thinkers,” I said. “We can’t have known…whatever this is.”

***

“A mass breakout,” said Danvers. Spider-Man and I were in costume, Web Crawler was listening through the phone. We’d pushed back dinner a little with May and Adam, saying it was taking longer to move through the city.

“Do you know who?” I asked.

“Multiple people,” Danvers said, “and it points to something much larger going on. Vulture’s tech was used to get in without springing alarms, the Oxen, Tombstones and some of his people, and White Dragon were spotted fighting our people to break out all the Inhumans we had in custody.”

 _“All_ of them?” said Spider-Man. “Even Hammerhead?”

“Everyone,” said Danvers. “There was too much of a knock-on effect. One set of Inhumans released adding their powers to the breakout and at a certain point we couldn’t keep up.”

I let out a sigh. “All that work for nothing,” I muttered.

“Our base is ruined,” said Danvers. “Equipment and files, thankfully a lot of them are backed up, the files that is, but that’ll take a while before we have everything back. Our weapons were taken out—”

“Restricting how much force you have,” said Spider-Man

Danvers nodded. “It’ll take a while before we get the forces in,” he said. “The ATCU is still in something of a development phase, not as much power as other departments—”

“But still enough that a lot of people were held without trial,” I muttered.

Danvers gave me a long look before he shrugged. “That’s become moot, now, hasn’t it?” he said.

 _“Here,”_ said Spider-Man. “But what about all the other cities that the ATCU is operating in?”

Danvers sighed.

“I don’t get you,” I said. “You’re not defending things, but you’re just going along. Why?”

“Not like there’s much I can do,” he said. “I have my place in this machine and trying to buck the system will only get me fired.” He shrugged. “Better to just go along with things.”

“Even if it’s wrong?” I said.

Danvers shrugged. “Told _you_ , didn’t I? And you’ve already started stirring the pot with those Hogarth people down our throats.”

“This was your plan,” said Spider-Man.

Danvers shrugged again. “You can look at it like that if you want,” he said. “Let’s focus on this. We’re going to be leaning on you a lot until we get our equipment back.”

“We’ll need a list of abilities and also files about the crimes they’ve committed,” I said. “I’ve read up on the Accords, what little I could understand and I don’t like parts of them.”

“You’re free to do that,” said Danvers. “It’ll take a bit, but I’ll get them to you. Something you might want to know, why it might be hard to get people on our side. Tombstone has an Inhuman that can make clones, each time the clones split off they look different from the originals.”

“Meaning surveillance,” I muttered. “Paranoia.”

“Makes things a little more complicated,” said Spider-Man. “Unless we’re going to be hitting random teenagers because we think they might be spies.”

I shook my head.

“I know,” he said. “Just pushing out a stupid plan out of the way.” He sighed. “We’ll have to start dealing with this tomorrow. We have somewhere we have to be.”

Danvers nodded. “Sort of got that sense,” he said. “Happy holidays.”

“You too,” said Spider-Man. I nodded and the two of us left.

“Your stories thing was a brown note,” I said. I was on Spider-Man’s back so we could move faster, making our way home.

 _“Stories?”_ Web Crawler said.

“It’s a thing we were talking about before this,” said Spider-Man. “The stories that people have in the background that we don’t know. Danvers here is…I can’t make sense of him.”

“Me too,” I said. “I might have had a bad read on him.”

 _“He’s a good guy,”_ said Web Crawler. _“But not enough that he’s willing to do something that’ll lose him his job.”_

“If he did something overt, he’s right,” I said. “He loses his job and his hand on the wheel. Even if it isn’t overt now, he’s steering the ship towards helping.”

“He did say he was just following order,” said Spider-Man. “Maybe he’s not following the spirit behind them?”

“Yeah,” I said.

 _“He’s an ally?”_ said Web Crawler. _“With us against the ATCU.”_

“We can expect help, I think. But nothing that might get him fired.”

“So it would be better not to lean on him?” said Spider-Man.

“Yeah. Just pay attention to everything he tells us, seeing if he can use it,” I said. A few minutes had passed and I could feel Spot hibernating in my range.

_“What do we do now? About the escapees?”_

“Call Matt and tell him about it,” I said. “Maybe he can act as a buffer if we’re forced to bring these people in? Make sure their rights aren’t trampled over.”

 _“I’ll call,”_ said Web Crawler. _“I have a little time. You guys can get to your dinner.”_

“Thanks, Web,” said Spider-Man. “See you later.”

 _“Bye,”_ he said.

We reached a building and quickly changed, then went in. May and Adam were on the couch, talking and I made sure to focus on everything else other than their conversation.

“We’re home!” said Peter as we got in. I felt as May and Adam moved, coming to their feet. They might have been kissing but I distracted myself from the thoughts as well as I could, focusing everywhere but where my mind wanted to go.

“Finally,” said May. “Thought the food would be cold by the time you arrived.”

“Hey, guys,” said Adam.

“Hey,” said Peter while I waved.

“How was the rink?” he said.

“Peter was graceful as always,” I said. “Which is annoying.”

“I _am_ a graceful creature,” said Peter. “I’m _famished.”_

“Faster if we all help,” said May.

We went through it. Adam and I setting the table while May and Peter started plating. It didn’t take too long before we were at the table eating, talking.

“Seven?” I said.

“Yeah,” said Adam, smiling.

“Why? Why would anyone want to do that to themselves?” I said.

“Um…”

“That’s not what she meant,” Peter quickly pushed in. “She likely meant _raising_ children.”

“Oh,” said Adam and May chuckled a little. He shrugged. “Father was an only child and my mother’s an orphan. They both had their reason for wanting a large family.”

“Must have been fun, having so many siblings.”

 _“No,”_ I said. “Dealing with _you_ is sometimes grating, imagine so many more—”

“Um, what?” said Peter. “Grating?”

“Don’t tell me I don’t sometimes annoy you,” I quickly said.

“I won’t say that,” he said in return.

“It was good, sometimes bad,” he said. “Thankfully we lived on a farm so there was a lot of space if you needed time alone.”

“Right, you’re from the mid-west,” said Peter. “How was it, moving from there to the big city?”

“Claustrophobic,” he said. “People aren’t as friendly, which was an experience. And there’s more of a _bustle,_ which I think I longed for more than I knew.”

“I wouldn’t mind living in the country,” I said.

“Yeah?” said May. I was aware that this was the first time she’d really spoken. She’d been quiet, smiling for the most part.

I shrugged. “When I retire, I see myself in some secluded cabin doing nothing,” I said.

“Mooching off of me,” said Peter. “Because living in a cabin isn’t going to make you any money.”

“Well, that goes without saying,” I said.

Peter shook his head.

“What are you thinking of doing?” Adam asked. “Career wise?”

“Working for Stark Industries,” Peter said without thinking. “Or maybe starting up my own company if I can. But no matter what I do, it’ll be building tech.”

“You’re a techie?”

“A little,” said Peter.

“A lot,” I said.

“I’m good at rebuilding stuff, at that point it’s a cinch to work the elements together, you know?”

“I can guess,” said Adam.

“Had to stop him from breaking apart our TV to see how it works,” I put in.

“I could have put it back together,” he said, defensive.

“Yeah, right,” I said.

“Could give you my old TV,” said Adam. “I’ve been meaning to throw it out, but it’s so easy to horde. Doesn’t work though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” said Adam with a shrug. “What about you?”

“Um…I don’t know. I can’t see myself really in a career.”

“But how will you make money?” he asked.

“That’s the conundrum,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out. Hopefully winning the lottery’s in my future.”

“Don’t bet on it,” said Adam. “The odds are pretty low.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out. I’ve been told I’m quite industrious.”

“Yep,” said Peter.

“Yes,” said May.

“More likely I’ll work in administration if Peter builds his tech company. Maybe a little nepotism and paying me more than the market standard?”

Peter snorted. “I think that would be unethical.”

“It would,” said Adam.

“Eh, we’ll figure things out.” I said, because I didn’t really see myself working in any career that was a hero work. I had quite the bit to figure out the financial end of things. But right now, it wasn’t worth worrying about.


	38. Chapter 38

**Wreath**

**6.4**

“Late Christmas present,” said Ned. “Work.”

He didn’t even wait to get inside before he handed over a flash drive. I took it, looked it over and stepped back. He got in, taking off his coat and looking around.

There were still decorations which we hadn’t taken down. Aunt May and Adam had gone out, spending together his last day before he had to go back to work. Peter and I were supposed to take everything down, clean up the mess, but it was so easy to procrastinate: Peter had gotten up early to patrol and I was just enjoying doing nothing for a bit.

I took a breath and let it out in a huff, clicking the metaphorical switch that made me all work. Ned sat on the floor, pulling out two laptops. I sat beside him, taking the oldest of the two, larger, heavier and _bulkier._ It was largely dark, with scuff marks all through it, even on the screen, and there were signs that parts had been replaced with different models.

It was a strictly an off-line laptop, lessening the chance that the information stored on it would be stolen. Even then Ned had redundancies. A lot of the money we had was being used to buy external hard drives, storing different sets of information so we wouldn’t lose all of it if the worst happened. Ned was even thinking about getting safety deposit boxes, but that would add its own sort of complications.

Ned and I booted up our respective laptops at the same time, but his started up faster. I had to wait a few extra minutes before the desktop came up and I put in the drive. It was encrypted and Ned gave me a ten-character long password which opened into a set of folders.

There was one with information on everyone who’d escaped, video files on the breakout, as well as new information on another gang, the Dragon Lords. The why of this inclusion didn’t make any sense, and I skimmed over the documentation on their operations as well as information on their leader: The man apparently dressed in costume and the _spandex_ kind that not even the Avengers had the clout to pull off in this reality.

I saw the why when I watched over the footage:

_At once there was a thrum of activity. The lights changed from white to red, an alarm blared and instructions rang out. A man dropped from the roof, not wearing a costume but a ski mask. He quickly moved to a wall, pulling out something small from his pocket and sticking it to the wall._

_When four of the things were placed, there was a flicker of light and then a shimmer, purple light running in the place where the wall had been. The man stepped forward and a moment later he came out, a woman with him. Agents were already moving in, a set of three, wearing combat gear and carrying large guns. They spotted the pair and didn’t even speak, firing bolts of blue-white light with a hard mass at the centre._

_The man took the woman’s shoulder and_ pulled, _they both ducked into the woman’s cell. The agents kept moving forward, one of them looking up,_ _the other forward, while the last faced the cell._

_The agent looking up fired and all three of them faced up, firing as a someone dropped from the roof. They hit, the centre mass spilling out into threads of silvery rope that bound the person; but it didn’t matter because one person became twenty, filling the immediate space around them and pushing the agents back in a wave of bodies, knocking them down._

_Some of the clones grabbed the guns, scrambling back before every body on the floor was suddenly sucked into three forms, all of them with guns and the bindings lost. They were about to shoot when green salvos of light whizzed towards them, forcing the three forms to flood the floor in bodies again, shielding themselves with the clones._

_The increased activity meant the man in the balaclava could get out of the cell, pulling the small objects and then moving to another cell, freeing another prisoner._

I switched to another video file: White Dragon and Tombstone were fighting a few dozen agents and they were winning. There were guns, both tinker and normal, but they either weren’t making a mark when they hit in the case of Tombstone or being dodged in the case of White Dragon.

I was surprised by how spry both of them were. The two fought the agents in offices, which meant there were a lot of places for the agents to use as cover, but it wasn’t helping. White Dragon dodged before he could be shot, using any surface he could to push himself away, landing in rolls that hid him before using the agent’s cover as projectiles. Tombstone was more of a brawler, using one arm to keep bullets from hitting his face, lunging close and then _punching_ with vigour.

Things looked like they might change when a tinker gun the size of a small pistol went off, hitting Tombstone square in the chest, tearing off portions of his clothes and mask and sending him flying back. But the man tumbled and landed on his feet, coming up and then was moving again.

Where the agents hit by White Dragon could continue, pushing through the pain and firing, trying to use their training to get an advantage; those hit by Tombstone weren’t so lucky. With each hit they _dropped,_ their faces scrunched in pain and sometimes insensate.

“Oh, boy,” I muttered.

“Scary isn’t it?” said Ned. He glanced in my direction, seeing the footage I was watching.

“You watched it?” I said, switching over to another file: _Hammerhead was awake and he was_ livid. _He moved through a wall, grabbing a man and throwing him into three others. There were bursts of red light, hitting, gouging and causing marks before they started to heal. He ignored all of them, moving through the piles of agents that were trying to bar his path._

_Around him there was activity, one of his compatriots, one of the women, pointed for a few seconds before gravity forgot itself. Everyone suddenly shot up, staying there before they dropped. Hammerhead must have been used to the manoeuvre because he landed feet-first, running forward and crushing any agent that was beneath him._

Ned nodded. “It’s…the powers there are terrifying,” he said, “and they’ll be expecting you. Which is just worse.”

“Yeah,” I said. _A woman, no a girl, that was sixteen or seventeen, and she had hands covered by goop that glowed a ruddy colour. She threw and the goop got larger, landing on the floor a veritable wave. It rushed over three agents, hardened into brown stone and shattered. Where there had been anger before, there was a flicker of fear as she looked at the shattered stone. She didn’t dwell on these feelings a green blast barely missed her._

_She flung her hands, making more goop, but now she fired low. The goop hit the ground, cresting up as a wave and solidifying. A shield, but it didn’t hold up too well under fire. It cracked, chunks of rubble breaking and falling, forcing her to make more walls as other prisoners ran behind her._

I paused the footage and went to the folder with the files on the prisoners, there were over fifteen of them, and the files detailed names, physical descriptions, crimes committed and power classifications.

The girl was Angela Sanchez, twenty-three years old even if she looked younger. She could produce molten stone, though it wasn’t hot, that hardened when reacting to air and was extremely brittle. There was a note on the folder that she was likely to be an illegal immigrant, but deportation was to be withheld until the Mexican government could be talked to. Instead she’d been set to go to the Washington compound.

Angela had been arrested after getting her powers. She’d broken out of her cocoon, filled the immediate air around her with molten risk, and killed three of her family members who’d been watching over her during the process.

I started reading through files, seeing which of them would weren’t deserving of being arrested and attached them to an e-mail that I sent to Matt. I had no idea what he’d do, but there might be legal means to protect them I didn’t know about. After doing that, I pulled out my notebook, cataloguing each threat and thinking through ways we’d need to deal with them as well as manoeuvres we might want to employ.

It was especially scary thinking about Tombstone who we’d be going after. He had an Inhuman who could create at least twenty clones from my count, and who was _very_ good at using them to harry people in the same way I used bugs. If I _did_ have my bugs, then things might be easier, but it was winter and getting a good swarm would take more time than they would be willing to give.

My phone buzzed an hour in and it was a message from Bakuto, telling me that his ward had found them and that they’d be better on the ball this time to make sure they weren’t arrested. The email had a link that sent me to a drive with a zip-file. I downloaded it and it was filled with over three hundred images of people that looked the similar enough in sequential order, but if I skipped a few photos from one to the other, the differences were stark.

I switched back to the footage of the clone and watched it again, considering how the clones worked. The clones that had spurted out of the initial clone had looked like siblings except all of them were different, and then they’d been sucked into the three other clones and when they’d spurted out again, there’d been three families of siblings.

From the pictures, the differences could sometimes be so stark that the Inhuman could switch sexes. But the age didn’t ever seem to change.

“This will lead into a _lot_ of paranoia when I get back to school, I can just see it,” I muttered.

Peter got back and he had a backpack filled with stuff. He greeted Ned, went to the fridge for some leftovers before clearing a space and starting to work. The drones he was making were larger than I was expecting, _fragile,_ but I didn’t comment. Not like I knew anything about making drones.

“How was the patrol?” said Ned.

“Nothing major,” he said. “Someone tried to steal from those street-side Santas and I stopped them.”

“That’s good,” said Ned. We settled into silence as we worked. We worked for more than a few hours before my phone ran, Matt.

“Matt?” I said.

 _“Hey,”_ he said. _“Just found out Danny Rand’s surfaced and he’s looking for you.”_

***

Spider-Man and I had to go into the city, but we didn’t mind, curiosity driving us more than anything because he was looking for _us._ We weren’t meeting in a nondescript location, instead we had to swing low and enter through the front doors of _Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz._

It was a media stunt, having us enter at the front doors, because there were paparazzi there, snapping pictures of our entrance. Before entering, I’d had time to fill the place with as many bugs as I could, getting a sense of where everyone in the building was.

As Spider-Man and I landed, bugs started to drift into the foyer, forming the face of the Swarm.

Spider-Man spoke to the security guard at the front.

“Hello,” he said. “We have an appointment with the Hogarth firm.”

“Of—of course,” the guard said, his eyes on the Swarm. He took a tablet from his desk and passed it towards us, pulling out a stylus. “You’ll have to sign here.”

Spider-Man did, writing Spider-Man where it asked for a name and then a signature in intricate cursive. I had the sense that he’d been practising this signature with how beautiful it looked, making me feel a little self-conscious because I hadn’t practised mine. It ended up being Lacewing in cursive without any flourishes.

“No hands,” said the Swarm.

“I…I think that’s okay,” said the security guards. He reached for and gave us cards with the word ‘visitor’ written on it. “They’ll be on the thirtieth floor.”

“Thanks,” said Spider-Man and we walked away while the Swarm dispersed.

When we were far away enough from the guard, I said, “You’ve been practising your autograph.”

“Yeah?” he said.

“And you didn’t tell me,” I said. “Did you see how terrible mine was?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said, but I had the sense he was grinning. He chortled. “But it wasn’t good either.”

“Shut up,” I said. I pressed the button and the elevator opened. I pressed ‘thirty’ and doors started to close. A woman ran, flailing for us to keep the door open and Spider-Man did. She got in, breathing hard and then noticed who we were.

“Hi,” said Spider-Man.

“Um…um…um…”

“Which floor?” he asked.

“Um…? Seventh?”

“Is that a question?” I said, a chuckle in my voice.

She looked at me and then back at Spider-Man. She cleared her throat. “Seventh,” she said. Spider-Man pressed it.

“Want a picture?” I said. “Not like you ride an elevator with Spider-Man every day.”

“You won’t mind?” she said.

Spider-Man shook his head. The woman pulled out her phone and we took a picture. The doors opened to her floor and she waved goodbye.

“That was nice,” said Spider-Man.

“Yeah,” I said.

The elevator moved up until the thirtieth floor, opening into the law firm. People were milling about, some carrying stacks of books while others talked only in legal jargon from what I could see. Most, though, were sitting behind computers looking extremely busy. They noticed us as we got in, but I could see the concerted effort not to pay attention to us.

We went to the receptionist’s station, there were two people there, both of similar age, and both _pretty._ The woman smiled while the man continued with his phone call, inclining his head in greeting.

“We have an appointment,” I said. Bugs were flowing out of the vents and clustering together, forming a sphere that got bigger and bigger, taking on a humanoid form the more bugs added to its mass.

“Of course,” the woman said, standing. “Please follow me.”

We followed, moving through a largely straight path that led past offices which grew bigger and bigger, their view getting better. The receptionist led us to a boardroom that only had Matt, and he was in his lawyer getup.

“Mr Murdock,” the receptionist said, and Matt’s head snapped in her direction, feigning a little surprise. “Your clients are here.”

“Thank you, Daniella,” he said with a smile.

Daniella inclined her head, her eyes opening a little wider before she said, “I’ll be leaving, then.” She inclined her head in our direction before she left, closing the boardroom door behind her.

“Isn’t this burning your identity?” I said. “Showing that you know us.”

“I said that you’re clients,” said Matt. “Which is probably a good idea in the first place so that I can’t be forced to say anything about you when this eventually gets out. Do you have any money on you to get me on retainer?”

“I have a few dollars,” I said, digging into my utility belt. I dug around and found five bucks, handing it over to him.

“Should be enough for a sandwich,” he said, putting it in his pocket. “This might also protect you with the things you’ve been telling me. If I’m your lawyer then it means you can tell me confidential information if you’re trying to protect yourself.”

“There’s something else,” said Spider-Man. “You’re fidgeting.”

“I’m…using you,” he said. “To get some clout.”

I walked around, finding a seat, the Swarm finally had enough bugs that she was truly humanoid. She was as tall as Matt, bulkier with a sharp face, and hair that trailed to her shoulders.

“Why?” she asked.

“I’m going to be working here,” he said. “The firm is opening a department that will specialise in working with Inhumans, Gifted or any other term for people with powers. My friend, Foggy, was working that angle before I came here, freeing Luke Cage, but it wasn’t a department then. When I came in, wanting to fight over Inhuman liberties and fix the ATCU, they had the idea of making it a department. They told me that they trusted the Nelson-Murdock dynamic and that they’d only put resources into this if I worked for them.”

“Isn’t that a sort of blackmail?” said Spider-Man.

Matt shrugged. “Whatever the case, it’s what’s needed if we’re going to make things better,” he said. “I wanted high profile clients so that I’d have an amount of autonomy, to be able to threaten to leave if they hedged me in with the clients I might take down the line.”

“Clients like your previous firm?” I said. He nodded. “Isn’t that going to have a hard time working when we won’t have the money to really pay this firm?”

Matt shook his head. “It’s less monetary, but PR,” he said. “If the Critters are seen working here, powered heroes, then it makes it more likely that other Inhumans will take their dealings to the firm.”

“As long as it gets us a discount, I’m okay with it,” I said with a shrug.

“We trust you, Matt,” Spider-Man added.

“Now, about Danny Rand wanting to see us,” said the Swarm.

“Not all of you, but _you_ in particular, Lacewing,” he said.

I frowned, giving Spider-Man a look. “Did they mention why?”

Matt shook his head. “Only that they were sent here from some magical dimension and that they had to return quickly,” said Matt. “They were pretty adamant about that part.”

“They?” said the Swarm.

Matt nodded. “There were two of them. “Danny Rand and a guy named Davos. They’re in the building now, talking to Hogarth.”

“I can hear them,” said Spider-Man. “Hogarth wants Danny to take control of his father’s company.”

“I can’t comment on that,” said Matt. “I should tell them you’re in the building.” He pulled out his phone and I felt as a set of people reacted. They would be Danny, Davos and Hogarth, then. They talked for a moment before I felt them moving. It wasn’t moments later they appeared.

Their clothing was minimalist but had South Asian flourishes. Davos was an Indian man, his hair cut short and a keen expression on him. They both had hard casts as they took in the room, looking at Matt, then Spider-Man and then lingering on me. They disregarded the Swarm, which made me think they might have known that I controlled her.

A woman was behind them, tall and thin, somewhere in or past her for forties, with short black hair. There was a sharp expression as she took everything in, a smile barely held back.

“Gentlemen,” she said. “Ladies—”

“We’ll want the room,” Davos said, tone hard. “We only want to talk to her.”

 _“Rude,”_ said Spider-Man. “I’ll stay if—”

“It’s okay,” I said. More bugs were piling into the room, bulking up the Swarm. “The Swarm will stay with me if this turns into something.”

“Turns into something?” said Hogarth. “I’d like it if my offices were still standing after this meeting.”

“They will be J-Money,” said Danny Rand. The more I looked at them, the more I noticed that they weren’t look _at_ me, but just over my shoulder. Like Daniel’s brother had.

 _I can’t panic,_ I thought and I distracted myself with the bugs that were reacting in my range.

“We just want to talk,” he finished. “In private.”

“Of course,” said Hogarth. “Mr Murdock?”

“Yes,” said Matt and he stood.

Spider-Man gave me a look.

“It’s okay,” I said.

“We can have refreshments in the meantime,” said Hogarth as the trio left. “Discuss your future.”

Spider-Man kept glancing back in our direction. Bugs on the floor, just in sight of Danny Rand and Davos moved, writing out that there were people with enhanced senses on the premises.

“Davos,” said Danny Rand.

Davos nodded and sat cross-legged, his eyes closed. He took deep breaths, over and over before he started whistling.

“We should be safe,” said Danny Rand. He bowed. “Greetings, Khepri.”

“I prefer Lacewing,” I said, feeling uncomfortable. It felt like everything was at the fore, now, my past, losing control. I pushed it all back, focus here, _now,_ because I still didn’t know if they were worth trusting.

He nodded, giving me an apologetic smile. Could he see my discomfort? Then again, he must have known that I was in hiding, that my identity had been changed and that by coming here he might be ruining things.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice monotone even if a part of me was livid.

“Information,” said Danny. “On someone who calls themselves Teacher.”

I frowned. “Why?” But I was already remembering that he’d been able to craft tinker devices that could move through the multiverse.

“He and people working for him visited us,” he said.

I swallowed. “Where they asking about me?”

He shook his head. “From what we could gather,” he said, “they were working with the Hand, an organisation that—”

“I know who they are,” I said. “They’re in New York.”

Davos stopped short, his eyes opening. He took a few deep breaths and started whistling again.

“As the Immortal Iron Fist,” he said. “I protect the only entrance to the City of K'un-Lun. But through some form of technology, they were able to break into our home dimension. We think that they were preparing these devices for the Hand.”

“I…I thought this earth was protected from intruders by the Sorcerers,” I said. “No one could come through without permission.”

“The Sorcerers overestimate themselves,” said Davos, an edge of anger in his voice. “They miss that the beings they work with aren’t smart but _powerful,_ that there are other ways to breach their protection.”

“Davos,” Danny chided.

Davos took more breaths, this time the process stretching longer than it had before. We stayed in silence for five minutes before he started whistling again.

“He’s right, though,” said Danny. “The Sorcerers either don’t see or don’t care that natural rifts can form, bypassing their protections. In this case, though, our researchers say that K’un-Lun is not on Earth and therefore isn’t protected by the Sorcerer’s magic. We have our own protections.”

I swallowed, trying to think it over. “So, you can come to earth whenever,” I said, “from your home dimension. One that has a rift that bypasses earth’s protection. Teacher can breach your protections to go to your home. Effectively, _he_ can breach the Sorcerer’s protections through K’un-Lun.”

“Which is why this matter was so serious that I was sent here,” he said. “Leaving my home unprotected in the process. We want to know as much as we can about his manifestation so we can better protect ourselves against it.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking about everything I knew about Teacher. I began to tell them, because the thought of Teacher coming here was terrifying. I didn’t like him and would likely want to hit him hard for what he’d done to Dragon, but there was everything else around him. He’d know me and wouldn’t have any qualms about using that information against me.

Then, something more terrifying occurred to me. If Teacher was working with the Hand, then it was very likely that the Hand knew about me and they could use my past to create a fissure between me and Peter.

 _Bakuto_ knew, and he likely wasn’t as powerful as people thought the Hand was. Why hadn’t I thought that others might know, others that were against me and that they might have incentive to use this against me if it seemed like I was winning?

_Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic._

_Thinker protocols. How do you make sure that a thinker doesn’t have something to use against you?_

The simplest thing to do was to make sure you didn’t _have_ anything they could use against you.

_Which means tell Peter. Which means tell May._

_Which means tell Peter you’re not his sister. Which means tell May you’re not her niece._

_Which means tell them that their experiences are cobbled together memories. Which means tell them that you didn’t grow up with them, that you had another life, that every time they question a peculiarity about your personality it’s because they don’t know who you are._

_That you’re an **impostor.**_

Peter burst into the room already firing. Danny managed to dodge, but Davos who was sitting had a harder time, webs hit him with enough force that he toppled back, landing and sticking on the floor. Danny got in a combat stance while Peter landed beside me, shielding me.

_You have to tell him._

**_If I tell him I lose him._ **

_You don’t know that._

****

**_I don’t want to take the chance._ **

It would be a betrayal like I’d betrayed the Undersiders, except this was worse. I’d— _you didn’t, the Faerie Queen did—_ inserted myself in their hearts, when—when—when—

_You might not have a choice._

I swallowed.

_No. No. **No.**_

I was panicking over nothing. This was all just a theory. I could be wrong. It was more than likely that I was wrong. It was _very_ likely I was wrong. I was wrong.

“Lace?” Peter— _Spider-Man_ was saying.

“It’s…another one,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m fine.”

Spider-Man gave me a long look and then nodded, letting out a relieved breath.

_Everything would be fine._


	39. Chapter 39

**Wreath**

**6.5**

A breath in and then out, _focusing_.

My bugs had been moving erratically, to the point the Swarm’s human form had fallen apart, becoming taller and bigger, expression inhuman as she readied for attack; outside, bugs were moving with fervour: tagging people, preparing lines and starting to tie them around legs and arms, connecting them to heavy objects. More bugs were in the vents and they were moving to my position.

I stopped them, telling my power that this wasn’t an attack.

_Everything’s going to be okay._

Peter still stood slightly shielding me, Danny Rand was still in a combat stance and Davos was struggling against his bindings. He was doing his best to breathe deep, maybe calm down, but he wasn’t achieving it and he would tug in irritation at the web sticking him to the floor. It wasn’t doing any good.

Beyond us, people had stopped and were looking in our direction. Hogarth and Matt were walking our way, both of them moving as fast as they could without running. Hogarth opened the door, her expression worried and a little scared. She took everything in and that fear only got worse, hidden behind a thin facade, as her eyes stopped on the Swarm.

“Problem?” she said, her voice with none of that fear.

“Maybe,” said Danny. “I don’t know.” He was looking between me and Peter as he said this.

“It’s fine,” I said.

“Sorry,” Spider-Man said. “But…I thought you might be doing something.”

“We weren’t,” said Danny, expression scrunched in confusion. He was paying more attention to me than Spider-Man.

 _Everything’s going to be fine,_ I thought again, _but it can only be fine if I do something._

Peter was my only worry now, the wrong thing said and I—

I cut the thought off. I didn’t want to think about it, but I knew the abstract and I could plan around it.

From his perspective these were panic attacks, I didn’t know what Peter thought about where they came from, but he’d gotten used to them in a sense. He wouldn’t mention it because I wouldn’t mention it and it would be this… _thing_ that hung over us.

“You’re unknown,” I said, my voice was firm, confident. Bugs on Peter felt him react. Where he’d been shielding me before, standing taut and preparing to go on the attack if needed, he stood looser now, giving more space while still standing in front of me. “Above that he couldn’t hear us. You could have done _anything_ and Spider-Man wouldn’t have known. He needed to be careful, a sense of ask-questions-later was needed.”

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man, giving me a point. “That.”

Danny frowned, still looking at me.

_Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t ask stupid questions. Keep quiet and everything will be fine._

He eased out of his stance. “Can you free Davos?” he said.

I nodded and reached at my belt, pulling out the knife I’d stolen from the Watchdogs what felt like so long ago. I got close to Davos, who looked _pissed_ that he hadn’t gotten himself out, and cut him free. He pulled the threads before I was done, getting to his feet and brushing himself off.

_Everything would be fine, but—_

Spider-Man was watching me and he seemed uncomfortable since I’d left his protection. Which wasn’t like Spider-Man. He trusted me implicitly, but maybe there was a chink in that? I’d had these things before, finding myself thinking too close to being Khepri, being in the thick of an attack from Scion and I’d closed off, but they hadn’t been while we’d been on mission.

Did he think I might have another episode while we were in a fight and I might get hurt? Could that happen?

 _Thinkers might,_ I thought and a memory came to mind. It was old, four years past and _what_ we’d been talking about was blurry. But I could remember a stand-off between Tattletale and me, and Panacea and Glory Girl. We’d been on the back foot, Panacea having done something to my bugs, made me unable to use them, and Tattletale’s power wasn’t that of a fighter. Even so she’d been able to destabilise things enough that we’d gotten the upper hand, all through using secrets.

_You have to tell him._

_Okay,_ I thought. _Just not now. I have to wait for the right time._

“I think we’ve gotten enough,” said Danny. “We should be heading back—”

“Before you go,” I said. “I need everything on the Hand—”

“And lessons on how to learn Chi,” Spider-Man put in.

I’d forgotten about that, even if it might be useful. My mind was working on attack, even if it was stalling. There were people who knew, people that could ruin things for my family. I could make sure that they didn’t, even if I didn’t know how yet.

“The Hand are enemies of K’un-Lun,” said Danny. “Evil people that sow destruction wherever they go.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything,” I said, a little irritated. He sounded like a kid reciting a story he’d been told by his elders. It was all abstract, giving a sort of understanding without getting into the nitty-gritty.

“Be nice,” Spider-Man said beside me. “But she’s right. What do they do, _why_ are they evil, their modus operandi? Stuff like that.”

“They are… _immortal_ ,” said Davos. “Spanning back to the times when Chi was still a force to be reckoned with, before the most skilled in our order were lost. This makes them the most powerful Chi users second only to a fully trained Iron Fist.”

“I’m confused,” said Spider-Man, shaking his head. “Why’s immortality bad?”

“They’re _defilers,”_ said Davos. “Using the essence of our most precious creatures, _desecrating_ them. They pillage cities to get at fortified graves, destroying them if the way is barred.”

“Pompeii was them,” said Danny Rand.

“Pompeii was a volcano erupting,” said Spider-Man. “How—”

“You’ve met Sorcerers,” said Davos. “At their most powerful, a Chi user can go toe to toe with one. Now imagine they’ve had _centuries_ to train their craft.”

My eyes flickered in Matt’s direction and I wondered how that could be. Matt had fought them and won. I didn’t understand how that would be when they sounded so powerful. So powerful, in fact, that they were playing a game with people outside of this Earth’s dimension. Unless they’d only pretended to lose and were still working towards their ends?

Bugs formed in the walls and then they stopped. It could be that Danny and Davos could augment their senses with Chi, speaking now might let them in on Matt’s identity, or was I over thinking things?

Better to be cautious and tell Matt later.

“Do you have anything more about them? Names they might have used?” I said. “It’s a long shot, but they may still be using their original names.”

“They are names every parent in K’un-Lun tells their children,” said Davos. He wasn’t angry, but every word he said was akin to a Christian talking about the devil’s evil. “Alexandria; Sowande; Murakami; Gao; and Bakuto. The Five Fingers of the Hand.”

I took a deep breath, held it for a moment before I let it out. Spider-Man and I shared a look.

“What’s wrong?” said Danny.

“Can we have the room, please?” I said.

“Plausible deniability,” said Matt and Hogarth nodded.

“I’d like a word,” she said, “with both groups after this meeting is done.”

I gave a vague nod and she left, Matt following after her. They closed the door and, “Gao and Bakuto are in New York.”

Danny and Davos shared a frown. “This doesn’t make any sense,” said Danny.

“Unless it’s a trap of some sort,” said Davos. “They attacked, knowing we’d want more information which leaves K’un-Lun unguarded.”

“Or to kill me,” said Danny. “Having me fight two Fingers. They might know my training isn’t complete, that in coming here I wouldn’t have reinforcements.”

Davos shrugged. “Whatever the case, we should get out of New York,” he said. “We shouldn’t fight them on their terms, with all their resources while we have nothing—”

“Leaving them also means they’re free to do whatever here,” I put in, earning their attention.

“We can’t leave K’un-Lun unguarded,” said Davos. “Not after there’s been an attack.”

“But what about the Hand,” said Danny. “The more _time_ we give them the more powerful they become. I’m the Iron Fist—”

“And your duty is to _K’un-Lun,_ ” said Davos, “not this city.”

“This city is my home,” said Danny. “Just as K’un-Lun is.”

“But that power you have inside you belongs to K’un-Lun.”

“Maybe we can help,” I said. “In dealing with the Hand.”

“It’s kind of our thing, protecting New York,” said Spider-Man. “And we’re pretty good at it.”

“But it’s harder when we don’t have money,” I finished. I was looking at Danny. “You’re Danny Rand, one of the richest people on Earth.”

“Everyone thinks I’m dead,” said Danny.

“Then prove you’re alive,” I said, “Get back your money and fund us, because if these people are old, they have a large pool of resources and they’re harder to beat. But—”

“You don’t need to convince me,” said Danny. “I’ve heard what you can do.”

_Shut up. Shut up. Shut up._

“That isn’t me,” I said. “That’s another version. Different decision led her to that point.”

Spider-Man, I could feel, was looking at me.

Thankfully they both had the decency to play along without question.

“Even so,” I continued, “we can at least mess with whatever they’re trying to do, make sure their influence here doesn’t spread.”

“It _is_ a good idea,” said Danny.

“But how long would it take?” said Davos. “We have to go back.”

“Actually, time doesn’t have to be a factor because you can commute,” said Spider-Man. To me he said, “We can use the portals in Daniel’s place, ask for any Sorcerer to take them to K’un-Lun.”

“Sorcerers are forbidden from getting near K’un-Lun,” said Davos, tone short.

“There’s bad blood between Sorcerers and Chi users,” Danny explained.

“They’re arrogant,” Davos muttered. “Believing they know best, that because of their versatility they have the right to—” He stopped himself, hands clenched and taking a deep breath.

“Is this because of the war?” said Spider-Man. I remembered reading about that, but it had been so vague.

“Because of them we—” Davos stopped himself again.

“It’s a sore spot, okay?” said Danny. “Can we let it be?”

I shrugged, looking at Davos. He was still incensed.

“No to the commute, then?” said Spider-Man.

“No,” said Davos.

“Pride doesn’t do anything but get you or the people you love, dead,” I said. “It’s a smart idea. Just using the portals to go back to your home is a smart idea. If you’re not doing it just because of some war?”

“Some—” Davos took a step forward but the Swarm moved forward, breaking apart into a cloud that separated us from them.

“Calm down, Davos,” said Danny. “Listen, I’ll talk to Hogarth, see if she can’t make all of this move quickly. With the season, it might take us a bit to get a plane back home. She’ll work so you have the resources you’ll want. Thank you for everything you could tell us.”

“And apologies, for my temper,” said Davos, both bowing.

“It’s okay,” said Spider-Man and he mirrored the bow though it just looked wrong.

“No problem,” I said with a shrug.

“About Chi,” said Spider-Man.

“If you’re looking for easy power, then being Sorcerer would be better,” said Danny. “Learning Chi is _hard,_ better suited for young minds that are willing to make it the entirety of their being. Even then, it doesn’t make it easy.”

I thought about Davos and his technique, how he’d had trouble keeping his technique going when he was angry. But then I thought about the people we’d fought in Gao’s forces. They’d been able to make some kind of membrane over themselves, giving themselves supernatural senses and they’d been strong to boot. What was different there than it was here?

“Even so,” I said. “We’d like to know.”

“Meditation,” said Danny. “You meditate until you’re in a state of thoughtlessness. If you succeed, you’ll feel it, an energy that’s within you; after that it’ll be easier to feel that energy moving it through your body; and with enough training, you’ll be able to move that energy.”

“We’ve been meditating and we’re not cut out for it,” I said. “I read there’s another way.”

“A dangerous way,” said Danny.

“But that’s often faster than meditation,” Davos push in. “Get yourself to your breaking point, and when you’ve gotten there, push past it. Over and over again.”

“That…sounds destructive,” said Spider-Man.

“More fail than successes,” Danny admitted.

“Which is why a mixture of both methods is used,” Davos said. “If you want to learn Chi, then that’s how you do it.”

“Thanks,” I said and they nodded, leaving.

***

We didn’t leave immediately because we still had to talk to Hogarth. Matt had left, saying there was something he had to check out and he wasn’t answering his phone. It was a little worrying, but we had no choice but to trust him. Spider-Man and I sat in the boardroom in silence, waiting for Hogarth to say whatever she was going to say.

“Bakuto’s a sleaze-ball like we thought,” Spider-Man said.

“And he lied about him and Gao,” I said. “Or at least implied something different with their relationship? He didn’t really talk so much about her if I’m remembering right.”

Spider-Man shook his head. “I’m still not sure about them,” he said. “Even with what Danny said. What do they want? Bakuto is connected to this, but we haven’t really seen what he’s doing, he’s just making sure kids are safe while still using them to spy. Gao sells Heroine in Chinatown, controlling most of that place’s underworld. How do those two things connect?”

“It won’t be a short-term project,” I said. “We still have a lot on our plate.”

“Tombstone, Vulture, Rose, White Dragon, the ATCU, the Accords,” he said. “It feels like the list is growing every second without us crossing off any of the things on the list.”

“We managed to get Hammerhead,” I said with a shrug.

“But he still got broken out,” said Spider-Man. “Feels like we’re wading against the current and we’re not getting any closer to shore.”

I sighed. “It feels like that,” I said. “I’ll think of something.”

He gave me a small smile.

There was silence again, Spider-Man looking at me like he wanted to say something but was holding back. I knew what he wanted to talk about, but I didn’t want to say more. I’d lied, like I’d lied when we’d gone to Kamar Taj. I didn’t want to add anymore dimensions to the lie, but the truth felt so much worse.

“I trust you,” said Spider-Man. “Whatever it is. Even if I’m curious.”

“It’s…”

He shook his head. “I’m not telling you about my freak out when we fought Hammerhead,” he said. “If I’m being honest, there’s a few things I’m not telling you. You don’t have to tell me about this.”

“But it shouldn’t be like that,” I said. “We talk about everything.”

He shrugged. “Somethings are harder.”

I sighed, then held out my pinkie. He mirrored. “Pact: This, the stuff we’re not comfortable telling each other might be used against us. If it is, maybe we try and keep our minds open? Ask each other instead of letting it fester?”

“I can agree to try,” said Spider and we locked pinkies, pulling them apart. I felt a little better, but it still felt like I’d put a band-aid over too large a wound.

“Now what?” said Spider-Man.

“We listen to whatever Hogarth is going to say and go back to Tombstone,” I said. “He’s the only one we can do something actionable about without stretching ourselves too thin.”

He nodded. “Do you think you’re okay to be out in the field?” he said. “This is too many panic attacks in a small space of time.”

“I’ll be going to Kamar Taj after this,” I said, “maybe talk to the Ancient One.”

“That’s good,” he said, “and…can we have some scepticism about them again? Because I don’t want to believe everything Davos said without hearing the other side of the story, but it sounds more like the war I read about was between Kamar Taj and K’un-Lun, and the Sorcerers might not be the good guys.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Seems like there’s a lot of baggage there.”

Hogarth finally arrived and for the next hour, she droned on and on about all the business opportunities people in our position could be in, leaning more and more into getting us sponsorships. Spider-Man let me do the talking and all the talking was _no._

“There _is_ something you could do for us, though,” said the Swarm. “Something I’ve been wanting to dip a toe in.”

“Oh?” said Hogarth. She looked a little discomforted but was hiding it quite well.

“There’s been research I’ve read about into spider secreting specific types of spiderwebs,” she said. “It had to do with nano-thorns.”

“Nano _tubes,”_ Spider-Man corrected.

“Whatever,” said the Swarm. “I want a steady income from that. Any place that’s doing that type of research and wants controllable spiders.”

“I’ll make the calls,” said Hogarth. “I’ll get your e-mail address from Mr Murdock.”

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” said Hogarth.

***

It was early evening when I used the portals to go to Kamar Taj, leaving Spider-Man and Web Crawler to discuss everything that had happened with Danny Rand _._

Telling Peter was…I didn’t want to do it, even if it was weighing against my mind, but something had to be _done._ I had to get control of the situation.

The Hand first, figuring out their deal and how they worked, figuring out if it was in the realm of possibility that they might _say_ anything and if there was anything I could do to stop them. Then there was Teacher, if he was working with the Hand, and the Hand knew about me, it only increased the chance that Teacher knew about me. If he knew about me, then did anyone else on Earth Bet have access to the same information?

 _Doing_ helped, it gave me a sense of purpose and it stopped my mind from panicking. It was a shift of focus, eerily close to what I was fighting against with how my brain worked, but if I was more aware then things were okay.

_Refocus._

The refocusing, though, was a little harder when I walked into Kamar Taj and it was in the early hours of the morning, most of the people around sleeping. I took a breath, letting the colder and crisper air fill me up. I didn’t want to be back in New York, because everything seemed so much closer there. I needed distance.

I started for the library, feeling a sleeping form within. The moment I got close, the form moved, getting up and when I arrived at the doors, Master Wong was already sitting at his desk, paying attention to a book.

“Ah,” he said with a smile. “Ms Parker.”

I smiled. “Hello. Sorry to wake you up.”

He hummed. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m glad you weren’t, well…I was expecting Ned.”

“Wanted to talk to the Ancient one,” I said. “Something came up and I want to ask some questions.”

“Oh? Maybe I may be of assistance,” he said.

“How much do you know of my world?”

He moved his hands, drawing symbols of orange light through the air. He finished, the inner parts of the symbol started to spin before the thing broke apart, a large book slipping out of thin air and landing with a bang on the table. Master Wong was looking at me with an expectant smile.

“That was for show, wasn’t it?” I said, not the least bit impressed.

His smile dropped and he shrugged. “Well, Ned likes it,” he muttered under his breath, waving his hand. The book flipped open. “Earth Bet,” he said. “Your earth experienced an infestation by primordial worms. This… ‘family’ of Worms worked in pairs and something happened. One of them died and their life cycle was interrupted. One of the worms, you called it Scion, deviated from the path and started destroying worlds. The ‘infected’, you call them Parahumans, fought against him and won.”

“That’s…a bigger, larger view than I was expecting,” I said.

“Sorcerers focus on the cosmic events,” he said. “We focus on creatures who break worlds and sometimes universes: Dormammu; Umar; Satannish; and the list continues. Ours, is an order that protects this dimension against invaders. We step in on the affairs of humanity when we think they might summon things beyond their ken, but not much until then.”

“So you wouldn’t know about Teacher,” I said. “A Parahuman from my earth?”

The book flipped, stopping on a page. “Teacher,” he said. “He has an infection-manifestation that allows him to travel different realities through various means and thus is a person of interest.”

I decided not to comment on the infection-manifestation.

“Well, he’s much closer now,” I said. “He attacked K’un-Lun.”

Master Wong looked up, a frown on his face. “That complicates things,” he said.

“Because of the war?”

“You know about that?”

It was the same trick Peter had used on Davos, giving just enough to signal that he knew more without knowing more. It had worked then and I felt like it would work now.

“I want to get your side of the story,” I said.

“That’s…complicated,” Master Wong said. “It was…” he sighed.

“No knowledge is forbidden is Kamar Taj,” I said. “Only certain practises. What makes this so different?”

“Because it was a dark time,” he said. “Something threatened the earth and our order had to act. The denizens of K’un-Lun stood against us and we had to fight them. It’s…” he said. “It’s wasteful, but that war is the reason the Chi arts have suffered in their practice.”

“Which means resentment,” I said, frowning. No one in K’un-Lun would ask for help, even if they needed it, which increased the chance of them losing and Teacher and the Hand taking K’un-Lun. “You know that there’s a hole in your defence, right? K’un-Lun can be used to get here?”

“K’un-Lun is too small for what we usually deal with,” he said. “Any of the beings we fight would have to shed a lot of themselves to get through, making them easier to deal with and meaning that the Iron Fist might be able to fend them off.”

“Okay,” I said. This was filling in holes, but it wasn’t exactly helping me. “Do you have anything on the Hand?”

“They’re a myth, a conspiracy people have scattered through the years,” he said. “People think them a single organisation, but this isn’t true, they’re different people who’ve used the name for various ends through the years.”

“Or they’re immortal,” I said.

Master Wong shook his head. “Immortality is improbable. Only the Ancient has achieved such a feat.”

“Well, them too,” I said with a shrug. “You might want to update your records.”

“Duly noted,” he said, still frowning.

“I need a list,” I said, “everyone that knows about me and as much information I can get about them.”

Master Wong hummed. “I’ll have to talk to the Ancient One about that,” he said.

“Please do and ask her the measures in place that make sure people don’t spill on my deal,” I said. “Nothing’s happened yet, but…”

“I understand your caution,” he said. “I’ll have an apprentice get these to you when they’re done.”

“Thank you,” I said, but I didn’t move. “Can I stay here for a while? While I wait for everything to be set up?”

“Of course,” he said, giving me a sympathetic smile.


	40. Chapter 40

**Wreath**

**Interlude I**

_“Curiosity? You know? Like. When I was a kid—I remember being a little kid and I’d follow my Dad around as he worked. He would be creating these incredible things and I would be there asking what_ that _does, and what does that do. On and on, learning, sating that part that just wanted_ more. _I guess what I’d tell the next great inventor is to be curious. I know people say curiosity killed the cat. But,” he shrugged, hand going to his beard and then gesturing. “we aren’t cats.”_

***

“…”

And Peter agreed.

The two sat on the couch in Peter’s living room, the TV on but they were not really paying attention to what was playing. Ned hadn’t pulled out his laptop yet because all of his attention had been on Peter’s summary.

“There’s…” Ned stopped, blinking. “There’s a lot going on that I don’t understand.”

“It’s not only you,” Peter admitted. “There’s…a lot of stuff I don’t know and… _yeah._ ”

“And Taylor isn’t telling you? You two talk about everything.”

Peter shrugged, folding his hands and sitting back, his eyes closed. He let out a long sigh, trying to get at what he was feeling and he wasn’t _sure._ He was starting to notice that this was starting to happen more and more; all these things happening that brought up emotional reactions and he just couldn’t figure out what he was feeling and _why,_ made worse because he didn’t know what he was _supposed_ to feel too.

This was another case. He and Taylor weren’t talking. She was hiding things. He’d given her permission to do that, but it was against his nature to just…let it lie. Curiosity was his entire deal, it was why he liked breakingthings, because it meant he could sate that sense of him that wanted to know _more._

This hadn’t ever applied to Taylor, at least not to this level. But now it did and he _couldn’t_ think about it.

“So this is something else we’re just going to sweep under the carpet?” said Ned and he sounded dissatisfied.

Peter opened an eye and turned over, giving Ned a long look. He could see that he wasn’t going to let this go, because, although Ned looked uncomfortable, there was a resolute air to him.

“What do you want me to do?” he said. “Taylor had a panic attack because of whatever it was—”

“Which is the point,” said Ned, his tone sounding like he shouldn’t have explained this. “She had a panic attack. She’s been having panic attacks and we’re just ignoring that.”

“But…that’s the best thing to do,” he countered. “Taylor…she doesn’t like it when people try to help her.”

Ned frowned. “But we help her,” he said.

“Not really.” Peter folded his arms tighter around himself, sitting so his feet were crossed on the couch. There was that feeling again, emotions bubbling up that he wasn’t sure what they were or how to deal with them. “I mean…not if you really think about it. Like…who’s the leader of the Critters?”

“There isn’t a leader,” said Ned.

“Okay,” said Peter. “But _who’s_ the leader?”

“Taylor,” Ned said.

“Yeah. She’s…” _a mastermind,_ Peter finished in his head. It was something he’d talked about with Daniel, but then it had just been a vague sort of worry, born of Taylor’s personality. But in the moments he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, it started listing all of the things that didn’t make sense:

_Taylor had had powers for at least two years before he’d told him about them, and in that time she hadn’t done anything, but every time she acted it was with more experience than she should have. She understood too much._

_Taylor had the eye of a Master of the Mystic Arts, the eye of the Ancient One._

_Taylor had interested Daniel’s brother, who was a different type of magic user._

_Taylor had the interest of the Iron Fist and had been so important that the people of K’un-Lun had come to her._

_Taylor scared an Apprentice of the Mystic Arts because of some alternative universe shenanigans._

Peter took a breath, long and deep, and let it out, cutting the stream of thought before it could get away from him. Taylor was his sister and if she was hiding things then she had her reason.

 _Everyone has their reasons for doing things,_ he thought, doing his best to give the thought weight. _I shouldn’t judge them on actions alone because when I judge what_ I _do, I look at things holistically._

Ned let out a frustrated grunt. “Peter…I don’t think this is going to end well,” he said. “If things keep going like this.”

“Yeah,” said Peter. “But…” He shrugged. “I don’t know, man. Daniel’s gone, Taylor’s gone to Kamar Taj so maybe things will be better.”

But Peter didn’t really believe it.

“I’m going to get some stuff,” he said. “Start working on your drone.”

Ned sighed. “I’ll…check my e-mails. I gave the ATCU images we got from Bakuto and maybe they have something.”

“Sure,” Peter said, but his mind was on his work.

He went to his room, pulling out a tray with parts from under his bed and moving it to the living room. He started working, focusing on what he wanted: A drone that would be large enough to carry a camera, it would have to have fine controls that could be moved by a bug, more complicated than the switch for Taylor’s anti-grav pack, because thatwas strictly on-off.

It worked in stopping him from thinking, instead forcing his mind in one direction which was solely the drone.

He managed to clock in two hours of work before he got bored, his mind so drained that he couldn’t think clearly.

Ned glanced at his watch. “I think it’s time I went home,” he said. “Don’t want to miss dinner.”

“I’ll walk you out and maybe go on patrol,” said Peter.

“Taylor’s already on patrol, FYI,” said Ned. “Some people caught her running on rooftops.”

“Probably’ll do her good,” he said, putting on a jacket. Peter wasn’t like Taylor who seemed surprised by how cold winter was, but he missed the warmer weather.

“You’re not worried about another panic attack?” said Ned.

“Honestly,” said Peter. “I’m more worried about the people around her if she has a panic attack.”

***

One arm held a thread while the other shot; the press against his palm was long, and he felt the minor vibrations moving through the thread because of wind resistance and the thrum as it finally stuck to a surface. He let go of the old thread, letting his momentum build as he started swinging on an upward course.

There was no wind rushing past, at least none that he could really feel, all of it stopped either by the costume, or the layer of clothing he wore underneath. Even so, it was exhilarating.

The course down took him so close to the street he could have run across the rooftops of passing cars; the sounds of people got much louder, their heartbeats, their breathing, their footsteps and their conversations. He could hear and if he _listened,_ he could note the differences in heartbeats, _looking_ for anything worth his attention.

He angled a bit to the left, fired a web-line and he turned, swinging into an alley and running along the side of a building, working to ween away his momentum. He let go of the web-line, focused on running and _leapt,_ firing twin-lines that had him swinging sideways to catch a building face and continue his running.

It took a few seconds before he heard the disturbance, a cluster of heartbeats beating too loud, hard footsteps against the ground: A man was running with two officers chasing after him. The man wasn’t too fast, but he was fast enough that he might be Inhuman. The man was also carrying a black bag that he was keeping too close.

A jump while firing. The web-line caught the man square in the back and as Spider-Man moved ahead of him, the end of the web-line still in his grasp wound around a streetlight. He landed and tugged, and the man was pulled back and up, left dangling so his feet didn’t touch the ground. Spider-Man fired two quick shots to bind the man’s arms at his side.

 _Mover,_ Spider-Man thought, but at this point it was abstract, something he didn’t have to manually consider, _keep them in one place as much as you can. Take away their ability to move._

Another web caught the bag. He pulled, caught and opened it, peeking inside. The thing was filled with a stash of money.

“I don’t think this belongs to you, Mr Criminal,” Spider-Man said. The officers finally arrived, all of them young and in good physical condition, but Peter could hear their hearts, see the sweat lining their brows and hear how they breathed. “Hello, officers. I think you were looking for this.”

“Spider-Man,” one said, excitement in his voice. Spider-Man couldn’t help the smile even if they couldn’t see it.

“That’s me,” he said. “Your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Who’d this guy rob, anyway?”

“Jewellery shop a block over was cashing up,” said the other office. He stood straight, trying to hide that he was breathing so hard. “This _freak_ decided to take their money.”

“Hey,” said the first officer, elbowing his partner. He inclined at Spider-Man with his head.

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” said the officer. “It’s just that it’s people like them that give the rest of you a bad name, you know? Take away from how cool you are.”

“Um…” Spider-Man stopped, because…because it was too uncomfortable. It reminded him of the ATCU and what they were doing, keeping people without trial and all the other shady stuff that Taylor believed they might be doing.

He didn’t like it, especially since it would be letting Taylor just fester in her pessimistic world view. But how blasé the man was made him think maybe racist undertones. Except that wasn’t right because it wasn’t race but…speciesism? Which also didn’t feel right because it meant Inhumans weren’t human and that might have its own problems.

“What’s going to happen to him?” Spider-Man asked.

“ATCU,” said the second officer. “We don’t know if we’ll be able to hold him and even with the stuff that happened to their base, they have the facilities.”

“Right,” said Spider-Man. “Give me a moment.”

“Yeah, sure,” said the first guy. Spider-Man walked forward, pulling the man higher and higher. He fired a web-shot that caught the line and kept the man buoyed. He jumped up, caught the light post and climbed up.

“Hey,” he said.

“The fuck you want,” the man said. He was wearing a ski mask to hide his face.

“To help,” Spider-Man said with a shrug. “You know about the ATCU?”

“They disappear people like us,” the man said. “Like _me_ because you’re fucking cushy with them. ‘Least that’s what the blogs are saying.”

“Yeah… Well, some of the stuff they do I don’t like. Like the whole disappearing thing. So I’m willing to get you a lawyer.”

The man turned, giving Spider-Man a long look. “Is this like a trap or something?”

“How can it be a trap when I’ve already caught you?”

“Right. But…Why? What’s the catch?”

“I mean, you’ll probably go to prison,” Spider-Man said with a shrug. “But it’ll be prison-prison, not whatever the ATCU do with their prisoners. There’ll probably be things like not using your powers too.”

“Better than being disappeared,” the man said.

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man. “It is. I’ll call my guys, tell them about you, and I’ll stay close so they don’t do anything dodgy.”

“Okay,” the man said. “Um…Thanks…I guess.”

“I’m here to help _everyone,”_ said Spider-Man.

He dropped and the second officer had his arms crossed. He looked pissed even if he was trying to hide it.

“You’re helping him?” he said.

“I’m making sure his rights are protected,” said Spider-Man.

“Even if he’s a criminal?”

“Criminal doesn’t mean he stops being human.” Spider-Man stood a little taller, which didn’t mean much when the officer was taller than him, but the man stepped back, his heart beating faster with fear. “There are laws and they should be followed. Sure this man broke the law but that doesn’t mean _we_ should be breaking the law because of that. We’re the heroes,” he said, “and we have to be better.”

The man stopped, eyes wide before he swallowed.

“He could get out,” said the man. “If that lawyer you gave him is good enough.”

“Then…then that’s disappointing,” said Spider-Man. “But…we’re law keepers. Let’s not be the people we protect the world from.”

“You’re naive,” the officer said and he shrugged. “ATCU people are coming, Davis called them in.”

Spider-Man nodded.

***

It hadn’t been Matt or Mr Nelson that replied, but it was someone from Hogarth’s firm. The woman was fresh-faced and there’d been a stammer to her when she’d spoken about arrangements and deals, but with Spider-Man _there,_ things had leaned in her favour.

And now, he was out again swinging through the streets, not so much looking for trouble but reminding the bad guys that he was there. He spent almost two hours patrolling before he turned back, heading for home. Three blocks away he changed out of his costume and started walking back.

Taylor and May were home, both of them sleeping. Peter climbed the wall, made sure that May was really asleep before he opened his window and climbed in. The illusion was there, spread eagle with a blanket only covering one leg. It was him asleep, which was the creepiest thing because even though he’d thought about what he might look like asleep, it was unsettling to actually see it.

He reached under his pillow pulled out the medallion, putting it on as he threw himself on his bed. He didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep because his mind _worked_ even if his body was tired.

He sat slightly up as he heard bugs moving, getting into his room and clustering on one wall.

“You sound like you’re asleep,” he said, a whisper. He was listening to her and her heart was steady like she was asleep and her breathing was even.

“No,” she said, not using her bugs which Peter appreciated. When he was tapping into his enhanced senses it could sound like static to hear the bugs crackle and hiss until words formed. “I was worried.”

“You thought I’d do something stupid?” Peter asked.

“I would have in your position,” she said. “I…don’t like not knowing stuff.”

“Don’t take this personally,” he said.

“People like to say that when something is personal,” she said.

“I guess this is,” he said with a shrug. “But…you sort of have control issues.”

“Yeah,” she said and she sighed. “I’ve heard this before. I’m…trying to change, but it’s not easy.”

“Yeah,” he said. Silence stretched between them, long and almost awkward before Peter broke it. “Are you a lesbian?”

“What?” said Taylor.

“Because if you are it’s okay,” he quickly said. “I mean, I shouldn’t have a say in who you are, but…if you were worried…”

“No,” she said and she chuckled, shifting and resettling on her bed. The chuckle was carefree. Peter liked it because it made him forget about everything that had happened. “But…I’d like…to come out as bi, metaphorically speaking.”

Peter shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t get that.”

“Um…I didn’t know this was a thing for a long time, but something Su said. Some people don’t believe that bisexual people exist.”

Peter snorted. “That sounds stupid,” he said.

He heard a ruffle as Taylor shrugged. “Anyway, people usually say that bisexual people are actually gay because a lot of gay people use bisexuality as a way-point in coming out. They say they’re bi, see the reaction, and if it’s good they come all the way out.”

“I think I get it,” Peter said. “What you mean.”

Taylor sighed. “You remember the woman in Kamar Taj—”

“The one who was afraid of you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s…because I have the same power…as _her_. The alternate version she told you about.”

Peter swallowed, sitting up. “But, that’s…not you,” he said. “You’re not her. Unless you are?”

“I…try not to be,” she said.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s complicated,” she said. “And I’m sorry that I’m not telling you everything, but…I…” her heart was starting to pick up and Spot had woken up, starting to pace in the vents.

“It’s okay,” Peter said, even though his mind was frantic, trying to figure things out. “If…if you can’t tell me, then…”

“I know things that she knows,” Taylor said. She swallowed. “I sometimes think the way she thinks.”

“Is that why you know the stuff that you know, all the classification stuff?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“I don’t get why you’d be afraid of telling me this, though,” said Peter. “That’s—”

“That’s the gay part,” Taylor said. “The part where if I just _told_ you…I’m scared.”

“Scared of me saying you’re not my sister anymore?” Taylor didn’t say anything, which sounded like a yes. “That would _never_ happen.”

Taylor shook her head. “I’m sorry, but…if I could, I’d stay in the closet for my whole life if only I didn’t have to worry about you or May looking at me like you’d look at me if I came out.”

“Taylor…” Peter said and stopped, because what could he say. “I love you. I’ll _always_ love you because you’re the _best_ big sister ever. I mean, you’re cool and you’re confident and you help people and you listen to my stupid ideas even when they’re stupid. You look out for me even if it gets you in trouble and, I don’t like it, but I feel like you’d die for me and I like that even if I don’t like it and it’s scary.”

“Please stop,” she said. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Peter sighed and got up, striding out of his room and into May’s. May was a light sleeper. She opened her eyes immediately, her mind already on alert.

“What’s going on? Is someone outside?” she said. She was starting to jump out of bed, her hand going for the baseball bat that would be under her bed.

“No,” said Peter. “Can we sleep here tonight? Me and Taylor?”

“Um…Yeah, sure. What’s going on?”

“Don’t ask okay? I just need this.”

May smiled. “Okay,” she said. “Where’s Taylor.”

A moment later the door opened. Taylor shambled in. It was uncomfortable, with the three of them in the one bed, but no one mentioned it.

“Thank you,” a cluster of bugs said in Peter’s room.

Peter smiled a little, even if a part of him was a little sad that his sister didn’t trust him.


	41. Chapter 41

**Wreath**

**Interlude II**

Things were different and Peter hated it.

Ultimately, it was good. Taylor had a secret and though she hadn’t told him everything, she’d told him just enough that more things made sense. A part of him still felt a little betrayed that she was holding stuff back, that she didn’t trust him, but this part of him was stupid, and even though it was there even if he’d come to realise this, he was trying to pay less attention to it.

The other part could sympathise. Taylor was afraid things would change and things _had_ changed. Both of them were walking on eggshells now; Taylor maybe waiting for the worst to happen, while Peter had to hold himself back. He wanted to know everything that she could tell him, but he also didn’t want to push her. He wanted Taylor to come to him when she felt comfortable, but another part also thought that she might want _him_ to make the first move.

“…Peter?”

All at once he came back to himself and Peter was aware that he was just staring. Taylor was in front of him and she had her backpack slung over one arm. Peter shivered to note that there were bugs on her, they were staying still, but a few would move their wings and he could hear them as they shifted.

That was _always_ creepy.

“You ready?” she said.

“Oh. Yeah,” said Peter and he smiled. Taylor smiled too but there was something off. “Everything in my bag.”

“Then let’s go,” she said.

Peter reached at his bag and put it on, coming to a stand and walking beside Taylor. They were quiet…more like _he_ was quiet. These weren’t mission circumstances and he was the one that usually started talking. Minutia at first, stuff that mainly bored her and then she’d get into it. But he wasn’t saying anything, which meant Taylor wasn’t saying anything, and she wouldn’t say anything because _things were different._

 _So say something,_ Peter thought to himself.

“When do you think we’re going to get the money from Danny?” he said. Not that he really cared. They weren’t rich but it was more money than he’d ever had. Sure, it was being used up by the supplies he was buying for the drone, but they’d be getting more money if things worked out today.

But it was the start of a conversation, however clumsy.

Taylor shrugged. “These things are usually complicated, right? If you think about the ripple.”

Peter frowned and shook his head.

Taylor was looking straight ahead, not watching him, but she continued, “Danny’s parents had shares in Rand Industries, those shares go to Danny if he’s alive. They’ll have gone to someone else now and they would have gotten used to that money those shares give them, that influence. If you were there, would you give that up?”

“Well,” said Peter with a shrug. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Taylor turned his way and Peter expected to see the ‘you’re naive’ expression, but instead there was a smile. He didn’t know what it meant but he smiled too, a bit of the awkwardness melting away.

“Most people wouldn’t,” said Taylor.

“Would you?” Peter asked.

Taylor shrugged, looking forward even if she didn’t really need to. When Peter focused, he could hear the sound of tiny legs and wings as they moved in the sewers under them. Sometimes he even spotted the stray cluster of flies as they into drains. It was a few blocks before they reached the subway station and, in that time, Taylor would have amassed a good swarm, not to mention the other bugs she’d pull in as they went into the city.

“I don’t really care about money,” she said.

“Which isn’t really an answer,” said Peter, not missing a beat. He caught another smile tug at her lips.

“Got me,” she said. “It really depends on the circumstances. Am I doing good and think that the person who’s going to get the money isn’t? If that’s the case I’d try and stop them from getting it.”

“That seems like it’s _rife_ for abuse,” he said.

“Big word,” she said, chiding in her voice.

“It’s only four letters.”

“Yeah, but I mean…it’s obscure,” she said. “That makes me impressed that you’d even think of it.”

“I’m smarter than you, you know,” he said, anyone else and he might be bragging.

“If that helps you sleep at night, little brother, then you should keep lying to yourself.”

She was openly smiling now, which made him feel warm inside, and then all of that was drenched cold with one thought: _Does she call me little brother because she considers herself to have lived two lifetimes?_

He almost asked this out loud before he stopped himself. It wouldn’t do any good. Okay, maybe it would help him feel better, but it wouldn’t be good for Taylor. The stuff she had in her head, the things she knew, it wasn’t stuff she liked. If he brought it up because he wanted to fill a _blank,_ then he wasn’t really a good brother, was he?

 _She’s not a good sister for lying to you,_ one part thought.

 _Aren’t you lying to May by omission?_ another thought.

 _But that’s for her own good,_ the thought came. _She’ll just be worried and…_

He stopped the thoughts as best he could, even when they _dominated_ him. He wasn’t used to this, having to stop himself from feeling certain things. Instead he was used to digging at it, questioning what he was feeling and then going forward with a greater understanding of himself.

But here it was all so complicated.

“Yeah,” said Taylor, distracting him. “It is rife for abuse.”

What had they been talking about? Money. Wanting to keep it if they were doing good and the other person wouldn’t. 

“But you’d still do the same thing? You’re not going to change?”

Taylor shrugged. “There’s already so much I’m trying to change,” she said, her voice a little sad.

Peter wanted to ask but didn’t. Taylor gave him a look.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” said Peter. He wanted to say more but he couldn’t. Right now, he wished he had a power that would tell him the right thing to say or do that would make everything better. But the world didn’t work that way and instead there was only this awkwardness.

There was relative silence as they waited for their train. Peter and Taylor were on their phones, but he could still _feel_ that stuff like wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Again, he wanted to say something, but no matter how much he racked his brain, nothing that wasn’t forced came to mind.

Their train arrived and they got on, they sat, still on their phones. A woman cleared her throat, maybe in her forties and standing next to a man that might be her husband. Peter had focusing on his thoughts so much that he hadn’t seen them. But looking at the woman now and Peter knew what she wanted.

He stood, smiling, but Taylor didn’t do the same. She sat, ignoring the woman, ignoring even Peter as he stood in front of her. Looking at her, Peter didn’t think she was upset, but the woman was getting increasingly so, which wouldn’t make things any better.

 _“Excuse_ me,” the woman said. Taylor ignored her.

“It’s okay, Essie,” the man said. “I’ll stand.”

The woman huffed, taking a seat beside Taylor and spreading herself so she was in Taylor’s personal bubble. Taylor shifted, didn’t move, but Peter swallowed because he could _hear_ what she was feeling. Since the train had reached her range she’d been piling on bugs onto it, and as the woman tried to foist Taylor from her seat, thousands of tiny wings flapped in unison, none of the bugs moved but Taylor was agitated.

 _Say something,_ Peter thought, but he still didn’t know what. Things had changed, but one thing that likely hadn’t changed was that Taylor had control issues and when that control was taken away, she responded by doubling down, doing loud things that meant she could take back control.

Two years ago, Uncle Ben had died. Taylor hadn’t been able to control it; hadn’t been able to control Peter who’d been at a low, not talking much and trying to bury it all down; and not able to control Aunt May who’d pretended that everything was alright while crying every time she went to bed. She’d responded to this by beating up Flash, then beating up other people in her school until it’d ended up in a court case.

 _Now she can’t control how I react,_ Peter thought as he watched, his stomach twisting and turning, as Taylor’s face stretched into a line.

She looked at him and something changed. Her shoulders fell and she let out a long breath, coming to a stand besides Peter.

“Thank you,” Essie’s husband said, giving Taylor an apologetic smile. Taylor smiled in return, hers fake, before she pulled out her phone.

Peter smiled, feeling a bit of relief, but he didn’t miss as a bug settled on the collar of the Essie’s coat, a little hiss and Essie’s expression scrunching as she smelled something bad.

 _A little petty,_ Peter thought, but it was better than however else Taylor might have reacted.

***

There was a veritable swarm as they arrived in the ATCU HQ. The building was short and squat, largely grey and with one side of windows destroyed. Thankfully it was winter, which meant there wasn’t much of a need of crowd control, but they spotted a few people close to the building, taking pictures of the side.

“Wonder what the news is saying,” said Lacewing. They were on a rooftop with the Swarm keeping track of everyone in the neighbouring building. Thankfully they were office buildings, which meant the people inside were busy.

The longer it stayed hidden that the Critters and the ATCU were working together the better.

“Isn’t it bad how we aren’t invested in that at all?” he said.

“Web Crawler would usually tell us,” said Lacewing, her voice hidden by the bugs in her costume and hair.

When it was discussed on the Internet about the abilities of the Critters, there was a very loud sect of people who believed that the power of love gave the Swarm and Lacewing the ability to speak telepathically, while another sect thought it might have something to do with the fact that Lacewing could tell where people were without looking. The latter group also believed that Lacewing might be psychic, which was why someone as short and not strong as her could enter a fight with confidence.

Most of it didn’t matter. The only part that did was that their ruse was still worked. People believed that the Swarm and Lacewing were different people, and that was a card they could keep up their sleeves until it was useful. But then Taylor had also said that the smarter players would keep anything they knew secret, giving _themselves_ that advantage.

But Peter didn’t really care about that, and so he left it to Taylor.

Here, now, he was at least relieved that there wasn’t any awkwardness. If there was, then he would have had to question how they would function in a fight and that would mean trying to convince Taylor it wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t think she would budge on something like this and it would only leave things worse off for his troubles.

“We’ve got the go-ahead,” she said and Spider-Man nodded. He took hold of her and then ran, leaping across a one-way street and landing on the ATCU building. He moved at a brisk walk, arriving at the door leading to the roof just as a woman in uniform on the other side opened it, a humanoid cluster of bugs behind her.

“The others are waiting,” said the Swarm. “Four floors below us.”

“Any security panels?” said Lacewing and Spider-Man couldn’t help but be hit by that dissonance again. Lacewing would _know_ and yet the act was so seamless that he sometimes wondered if there might be two people in there.

 _There might be for all you know,_ a part of him thought and this was the trigger for the intrusive thoughts to come back. He tried to push them back, not really focusing as the Swarm said something and Lacewing returned it. Only paying the barest attention as their escort led them to their destination, past admin people that stopped to look at them as they passed.

“Critters,” said Agent Danvers, which brought Spider-Man back.

 _Mission face,_ he thought.

They were in a boardroom, the Swarm already there and having chosen a large face that hung in the air. Agent Danvers sat with his people, a thin Hispanic man with a perm, and a burly woman with a military cut. Both of them were dressed in the ATCU uniform, military-esque in design, but the camo grey instead of green. All three of them were wearing bulletproof vests. Agent Danvers and the woman had gear on, knives and guns, and what looked like grenades.

Spider-Man swallowed, not liking the look of it all even when Lacewing carried a knife and Taylor had thought it might be a good idea to carry flash grenades with her.

“Good of you to finally arrive,” he said. “I’d like to introduce you to Agents Gibbons,” he said this gesturing at the burly woman, “and Leon,” and this time to the man with the perm. “Agent Gibbons will be leading the mission on the field while Agent Leon will be ops.”

They were close enough to that we could shake hands and Spider-Man was the first one to move. “It’s good to meet both of you,” he said.

Agent Gibbons only gave a curt nod while Agent Leon smiled, giving Spider-Man and then Lacewing an excited shake of the hand.

“Won’t the ground forces be here?” Lacewing asked.

“I’ll be talking to them after this,” said Agent Gibbons. “We’ll discuss between us first, getting a lay of the land before I talk to my people.”

Lacewing nodded. “The Swarm tell you about Web Crawler?”

“We were waiting for you,” said the Swarm.

“I’ll just do that,” said Agent Leon. He went to the table dominating the middle of the room and picked up an O-pad. He quickly pressed through before the section of wall that was a window looking into the offices darkened. One section showed a video call going. It was quickly picked up and stayed dark.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end said, deeper but Spider-Man couldn’t help but smile because he could hear Ned’s hesitation. “Can you guys hear me?”

“We can,” said Spider-Man.

“Oh. Hello, everyone,” he said.

“Hello, Web Crawler,” said Agent Leon, while Agents Danvers and Gibbons didn’t look all that impressed.

“Let’s start,” said Agent Danvers and he gestured for the Critters to sit. “Thanks to the pictures you sent we were able to get hits on a few of the identities of the person who we’ve term Duplicity.”

“Seven in total,” said Agent Leon. “Three of them were working in the places under Tombstone’s ‘protection,’ while the others all work for a club in Elmhurst called the White Spectre.”

“They still work there?” said Lacewing.

“They’re public with separate identities,” said Agent Leon. “We think that much of the staff there might be Duplicity and they’re using their power to look like employees of the place.”

“Makes cleaning money easier when they don’t have to worry about being caught by other employees,” said the Swarm at which the others nodded.

“It also means,” said Agent Gibbons. “That this mission will be harder. The club is almost always packed, with stock that’s cheaper than anything in the surrounding area. A fight will mean civilians no matter how hard we try.”

“Even in the day?” said Spider-Man. He didn’t know much about clubs, but generally people went into them at night.

“Not as large a crowd,” said Agent Leon. “But enough that it’ll get in the way. But it’s better than a mission at night.”

“But that has its own problems,” said Agent Gibbons. “With Duplicity’s power, it only makes sense that they’d have clones in the area, looking out.” Lacewing nodded to this.

“They could also have them at night,” Agent Leon said.

“But at night we’d have an easier time using the darkness to our advantage,” Lacewing.

“The fight will be messy, though,” said Spider-Man. “Especially with how Duplicity and Tombstone fight. They might be willing to use the civilians as cover to get away.”

“Won’t we have the street blocked?” Lacewing asked.

“The place was a speakeasy,” said Agent Leon. “Or suspected speakeasy. We think they might have tunnels leading to the sewers.”

“Why don’t we use those!” said Web Crawler. He cleared his throat and Spider-Man couldn’t help smiling again. “Swarm, you can get close, right? Feel things out for any tunnels they might use to get out. We use those to go in during the day and get the element of surprise.”

“They might have security,” said the Swarm. “But it’s a good idea.”

Spider-Man _knew_ that Web Crawler was smiling.

“Can we put trackers on some of… _you?”_ said Agent Leon. “It might make it easy to start mapping those tunnels.”

The Swarm nodded. “Who will we be fighting? People and powers?”

“Unknown,” said Agent Danvers. “Which is why this is harder. There’ve been sightings of the people who escaped, petty crimes, that sort of thing, but none of it points to them working with anyone.”

“There’s the problem of the criminal elements working together though,” said Agent Gibbons. “The Dragon Lords, Tombstone, the Vulture and the Big Man.”

“How does the Vulture fit in?” said Spider-Man. “He wasn’t there in the escape.”

“The phase shifting tech,” said Agent Leon. “It can’t have been easy for him to let go of it. We didn’t know it existed before he used it, but it’s made a lot of things made sense.”

“Like what?” said Lacewing.

“There’ve been disappearances of cargo from the Department of Damage Control,” said Agent Leon. “Stuff just vanishing into thin air. With all the tech and powers out there, they thought it was different agents and they were selling it on the black market, but now we think it’s the Vulture.”

“Doesn’t make sense he’d suddenly do that,” said Lacewing. “Not when he’s been quiet so long, when he seemed a low player.”

“Not if he’s got more resources,” said the Swarm and she looked at the Agents, bug-brow quirked up.

“That’s what we think,” said Agent Danvers. “Tombstone worked for the mafia before he headed it. His organisation is known to change what they do, so it isn’t out of the question they might have trafficked guns and still have contacts. Not to mention that the White Dragons have ties to the Yakuza in Japan, suspected to have stolen a large cache of Ultron parts.”

“Oh, wow,” Spider-Man said, his voice slightly shaky. “He’s growing.”

“They’re banding together,” said Agent Danvers, “which is scarier. If other people get the same idea in other cities, it won’t be long before even the Avengers will have trouble.”

“So this is bigger,” said the Swarm. “When we hit them, we’re setting the stage?”

Agent Danvers nodded. “We hit them and we hit them hard,” he said. “We’ll try and show everyone else that something like this doesn’t work. That the hit on the ATCU was just luck.”

Lacewing and the Swarm nodded, and Spider-Man could imagine they had the same expression. Taylor was about image and she knew how to play it well, she would full-heartedly agree with Agent Danvers’ plan.

Spider-Man, though, wasn’t too sure. Hitting hard could mean hurting and killing, and he didn’t want to do that when some of the people working for Tombstone might have been forced into it because they had nowhere to go.

“I…might have another idea,” he said, and his voice was slightly shaky because he didn’t really know all of what he wanted. Now they were all looking at him. “We have a team, other heroes,” he said, swallowing, “and we could go in.”

Agent Gibbons shook her head, frowning.

“It would be a small team,” he said. “Making detection harder and well, we know how to work together so there’d be that. But more than anything, it would be an image thing. Showing the villains that when they come together, they make use want to come together too.”

“Who are these people?” said Agent Gibbons.

Spider-Man glanced at Lacewing, knowing that she wouldn’t like this, but also playing into her nature a little. Taylor liked control, here, her voice would be diluted a little. But if she was in her own team, one with people who would listen to her for one reason or another, then she would be more willing to work with them than the ATCU which she already didn’t like.

“The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, the Iron Fist and Davos,” he said.

Lacewing didn’t react, but the Swarm did, breaking apart and then slowly reforming. All three Agents looked up at her, with Agent Leon swallowing and shuffling back in his chair.

“Problem?” Agent Danvers asked.

“I don’t usually hold a form this long,” the Swarm lied.

“Who are these people?” asked Agent Danvers.

“A team we’ve had on the side,” the Swarm said.

“Trained and experienced,” said Spider-Man. He was sure one was true, but he wasn’t too sure of the other. The most important thing in Spider-Man’s mind was that all of them didn’t use guns. It would be harder, going at it with punches and projectiles, and whatever magic had to offer, but at least he could that the villains would come out of this _alive,_ and that was what he wanted.

Would Agent Danvers agree, though.

The man was quiet, finger tapping the desk and biting his lip before he nodded. “I’ll allow you to use your team,” he said. “But we’ll be keeping a watch on things. You’ll use our comms—”

“And other equipment,” Lacewing put in. “We might need it.”

Agent Danvers nodded. “Yeah, sure,” he said.


	42. Chapter 42

**Wreath**

**Interlude III**

Lacewing stood a bit away, her phone at her ear, talking softly into it. Spider-Man watched, listened and he tried to parse everything. He couldn’t see anything that meant she was on edge, but then there it was very rare that he noticed such a thing.

There was a swarm in the air, a collection of the hardier bugs flying in the shape of a face.

 _“…why?”_ a voice on the other end said, Danny’s voice.

Lacewing didn’t say anything, her heartbeat even, and Spider-Man couldn’t help but feel that she was paying more attention to him with her bugs. Anyone else, this would be a glance, trying to get a sense of everything and treading carefully so the other person’s feelings weren’t hurt.

“We’ll explain when we meet,” said Lacewing. “Spider-Man and I still have to scout the location, get a sense of everything.”

 _“You’re not giving us much when you’re just asking us to stop,”_ said Danny.

“I thought you were waiting for a flight,” said Lacewing.

 _“We are,”_ said Danny, _“but—”_

“Then it shouldn’t matter that you’re on a mission, should it?” she interrupted.

 _“We’re on this thing where we could just be called in if there’s an empty flight,”_ said Danny. _“We’re at the airport right now. If we…give me a second…”_

Lacewing waited, not saying anything and Spider-Man only felt guiltier. He’d manipulated his sister, especially off the back of having told him something big. It was a shitty thing to do, even if it was the right thing to do in the bigger sense.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “about back there.”

“It’s okay,” the swarm of bugs said, soft with how little in number they were.

_Is it okay because of everything, or is it okay because it’s really okay?_

Peter _hated_ this, second guessing everything Taylor said, but…Everything was different now. He knew that there was _so_ much about his sister that he didn’t know.

“No push back?” he said. “I sort of blustered. I could have messed things up.”

“I trust you,” she said, not through the bugs.

“But you’re not supposed to when I don’t tell you things,” he said and he stopped. There was no change on Lacewing but there was a change with the bugs, they sort of stopped before they started flying again, moving as a mass.

“Fuck, that’s not—” said Spider-Man, but he couldn’t finish it. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” she said through the bugs. “Let’s focus on this, okay? We’ll have to go past Tombstone’s club, get a feel for the location and any avenues, start coming up with plans, looking at resources and the powers we might have to fight against.”

Refocusing, choosing what she can control. She was good in a combat situation, knew it more than she should and she _thrived._ This, she didn’t. They talked, but this was infinitely more complicated than anything they’d had to go through before.

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a sigh. “Okay.”

 _“Okay,”_ said Danny.

“Okay?” said Lacewing.

 _“Davos agreed,”_ he said. _“Give us a location and we’ll be there.”_

“Thanks, Danny,” she said and she dropped the line. Lacewing turned facing Spider-Man and said, “We’ve got Danny and Davos. Matt’s agreed but he didn’t sound so good when he was talking. I think there’s something wrong with him.”

“I heard,” said Spider-Man. “Should we get going?”

The Swarm nodded. “I’ve scattered my form. Let’s move.”

Spider-Man took Lacewing and as a pair they swung off into Queens, getting into Elmhurst before changing into their civvies, walking to the club while Taylor collected her bugs.

“If they’re working with the Vulture then they might the bug detection thing,” Peter said. They were a block away, which meant the club was comfortably in Taylor’s range.

“Keep the swarm low, use the smaller bugs I can control,” she said. “Listen for a pattern. Buzzing wings. Short-short-long-short.”

Peter closed his eyes and _listened._ A minute passed, with him filtering through the sounds in the surrounding blocks, the people speaking, footsteps and cars on the road. He let them all pass and focused on the bugs, the scurrying and skittering, the wings vibrating and then he heard it.

“Found it,” he said.

“That’ll be the anchor,” said Taylor.

He knew where the bugs were and he focused on them, then everything around them. The voices of the people there, their conversations. More bugs were joining into the pattern, but it was different.

“There are two floors,” said Taylor. “Short-long-long-short is the first floor. Short-short-long-long, is the second floor.”

“Okay,” said Peter. “There’s a man there,” and he could hear clicking. “He’s on his computer.”

“Do you know how to tell which keys make which sound, yet?” she asked.

“I’ve…heard that that’s a thing but I haven’t really been working on it,” he said, giving her a sidelong look. She was focusing on her phone as the two of them loitered in front of a store. Peter could see the woman behind the desk giving them looks every few seconds.

“Something to work on,” she said.

The man stopped typing, did a quick series of clicks before stopping. He leaned forward.

“Make you bugs act natural,” said Peter.

“Why?” said Taylor, but she’d already acted.

The man reached into his pocket, pulling something out and putting it to his ear.

 _“Yo,”_ he heard on the floor below. A man, early twenties going by his heart. _“’Sup.”_

 _“Check the tunnel,”_ the man said. _“Carry bug spray.”_

“They noticed your bugs,” said Peter. “They’re going to kill ‘em.”

“Fuck,” Taylor muttered. “At least we know there’s an escape tunnel. I’ve got a map. The ATCU should have it too.”

Peter nodded absently and focused on how people were moving. The man was a Duplicity clone because after having found privacy, another person burst into existence, grabbing something from a storage closet and going down the back and into a place with a heavy door.

“Should have carried a map,” Peter whispered because the clone was moving too quickly and Peter couldn’t find any reference points. Duplicity pressed a few buttons, a six-digit long code and Duplicity breezed through it. It only hit him much later that he could have done a deduction thing: That he could have used the how Duplicity’s hand moved to get a sense of the keypad and which digits were being pressed.

Duplicity reached the tunnel, pressed the thing in their hand and threw it. It hit the ground, rolled and there was hollow thump, spreading _something_ through the air.

“Gas grenade,” said Taylor.

“I feel bad about not using the ATCU,” said Peter.

Taylor clapped his back, smiling a little as she said, “Everything’s going to work out.”

Peter smiled, giving Taylor a one-armed hug. He felt the momentary tension but didn’t mention it because it suddenly disappeared.

“We haven’t told Ned, yet,” said Taylor. “About everything.”

“Yeah,” said Peter, voice a little tight.

“We’re gonna have to tell him. I don’t like keeping him out of the loop.”

“Yeah,” he said.

***

They spent a bit more time in the area, with Peter listening in as much as he could but not getting much of anything. Duplicity still worked the bar, Tombstone clicked at his computer, went downstairs to accept some deliveries and then started working out on a punching bag.

When they got to their HQ, Ned was already there, wearing heavy clothing. The place didn’t have heat, which was why they didn’t use it as much as they usually did, but it was in an area people didn’t frequent and it was _still_ abandoned so it was safe.

Ned had his backpack with him and he looked a little shaky.

“Got good Intel?” Ned asked.

Peter shook his head. “Nothing useful for me.”

“And I gave the ATCU blueprints of tunnels leading into the sewers,” said Taylor. “We’ve got an updated map that should have been sent to you as an attachment?”

“I’ll give it a check,” said Ned. “When are the others arriving here?”

“Not too long for Danny and Davos,” said Peter. “Maybe, ten, fifteen minutes. But Matt’s already here, he’s getting off a cab right now.”

Taylor took a deep breath. “Good,” she said. “We’ll wait, then I’ve got something to tell you.”

Ned frowned. “Is it bad?” he said.

Taylor stopped, her mouth a line. Peter gave her another hug, easing a bit of the tension. “It’s _something,_ ” she said. “It’s a lot of something, but it’s a secret I’ve kept that I’m going to partially tell you.”

Ned didn’t say anything, even though Peter could see that he _wanted_ to say something.

Matt didn’t have the same tact. _“Why partially?”_ he asked, voice low a little gruffer. When Peter focused on him, he could hear that the man’s hands were fists. Angry, but why?

Peter relayed, feeling as Taylor froze.

“Because it’s complicated,” she said. “I…honestly, I’m telling you guys this much because a lot of people know and I can’t help the information from getting out. I’d…I’d rather how it got out be controlled than it hit us when we aren’t expecting it.”

Matt was closer now, walking into the alley and going into a little niche that led into the HQ. He brushed off a light layer of snow on his shoulder as he walked in.

“This have anything to do with you meeting Danny Rand?” said Matt.

“Yeah,” said Taylor.

She tried to pull away from Peter, but Peter didn’t let it. Taylor didn’t know when to ask for a hug, even if she _really_ needed it. It went against everything they were taught, about giving people space and asking their permission before comforting them, but Taylor was different. He just hoped that this was what she really needed.

“I…know stuff that I shouldn’t know,” she said, the word slow, testing them. She swallowed, letting out a breath. “I…have powers that are similar to someone who existed in another life.”

“That’s why that woman in Kamar Taj was afraid of you,” said Ned.

Taylor nodded, the motion short and her body taut. _“She,_ the other me, had the power to control bugs, but she also had the power…the…she could also control people. She…could take away their choices and instead puppet them to do what she wanted.”

The more she spoke, the less emotion Peter could hear in the words, she was evening out, the tension disappearing even if he could hear the bugs all around them _buzzing._ It was agitation of a different sort.

“She did what she did because she thought it was a good thing to do at the time,” she said, her voice now expressionless. “Because there was something threatening to destroy the worlds and she thought by doing what she was doing she could stop it.”

Ned looked disgusted. “They want you for that power?” he said. “Danny Rand?”

“No,” said Taylor, voice hollow. “They had a problem from that other world and they wanted to ask me questions. I answered them.”

“Do they think you’re her?” Matt asked. “The…other you?”

Taylor didn’t say anything, didn’t move, even if her bugs were buzzing. Peter hugged her tighter.

“Are you her?” Matt asked.

Again, Taylor didn’t say anything.

“She’s not,” said Peter. “She’s the Taylor we know. The Taylor I grew up with, even if her power gives her a connection to someone else. It shouldn’t matter.”

“If it doesn’t matter why are you telling us?” asked Matt.

“Because it’s an explanation,” said Peter, because he didn’t think Taylor would answer. “There are too many people that know and they act while _knowing._ Danny and Davos; Bakuto with how he’s been trying to get Taylor close; and the Sorcerers in Kamar Taj. Taylor’s giving us context.”

“Is this why you’ve been having panic attacks?” said Ned.

“They aren’t panic attacks,” said Taylor. “Not really. They’re…when the worlds were ending. I keep going back there.”

Peter would have hugged her even tighter but he was worried that at some point he would crush her ribs.

“Should you be here, then?” said Matt. “Doing this? Fighting when you’re going through post-traumatic stress?”

“Doing this is _helping,_ ” said Taylor. “It…I can’t explain it. But I’m making a difference, I’m…I’m…I mess up sometimes, see myself going down the same road she went down on, but I have you guys to pull me back. If I just stopped…I would have failed.”

Matt nodded. “I understand that,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Ned. “Um…Can…I give you a hug? I feel like that would really help.”

“…Yeah,” said Taylor.

They got started while waiting for Danny and Davos. Ned pulled out his computer and brought up the blueprints, starting with the preliminary planning before Danny and Davos arrived. Peter was the one who waited for them at the street, then led them to their HQ.

“Sorry to pull you away from getting home,” Taylor said as they joined the group.

“Not a problem,” said Davos. “It is an honour to work with you.”

Taylor didn’t say anything and Peter held back from saying something. He didn’t like that they were treating Taylor as if she was the alternate-her, but he also wanted Danny and Davos working with them because he didn’t want to take the chance that the ATCU might be too trigger happy. Even if he didn’t know Danny and Davos all that while, he knew that they looked up to Taylor and Taylor would keep things from going too far.

“Right,” said Taylor. “We’re taking down, at _least,_ two people. Tombstone and Duplicity. Tombstone’s strong, fast and when he hits, he does damage. Duplicity can form clones, each clone looking subtly different than the other. We’ll be fighting the pair on home turf, with civilians around, and they might not be inclined to play nice.”

“Is the risk worth it?” Danny asked. “Can’t we take that away from them? Catch them by surprise?”

“We could wait them out,” said Taylor. “Wait until they’re out of the club in a place that we can get them. But we don’t know how long that’ll take.”

“Or if they have any moles,” said Matt. “It’s something that hit us when we were fighting Wilson Fisk. We’d wait too long and the intel we had would leak. He’d hear and he’d change what he’s doing.”

“But isn’t the ATCU supposed to be good?” said Danny. “Aren’t they Feds?”

“They are, but we can’t exactly trust them with things that happened with SHIELD,” said Matt. “Not with what happened with AIM and the vice president.”

“I don’t know anything about all of that,” said Danny.

“The vice president was working for some terrorist group,” Ned explained, he started shaky but had more confidence the more he spoke. “They managed to kidnap the President and would have killed him if Iron Man didn’t step in. AIM was also responsible for a major terrorist called the Mandarin, some actor guy was a figurehead while they used him to hide some shady stuff they were doing.”

“Not mentioning that the ATCU itself is doing shady stuff,” Peter put in. “If it can do that, we can’t put it past them that they might be working with local villains.”

“Tonight, then” said Davos. “It would lessen the chance of us missing the flight back home.”

“But there’s still the complication of civilians. It’s a club?” Danny asked.

“We go in early, eight at latest,” said Ned. “That’s when the club starts to fill up. If the mission hasn’t started at ten, then the place might be too full and we could hurt people.”

“Broad strokes: I’ll use bugs fill the place, enough to force an evacuation,” said Taylor. “I’ll attack Tombstone and keep an eye out on Duplicity and their clones. All of it while trying to force them to use the tunnel.”

“That’s a confined space,” said Matt. “Duplicity will make clones and overwhelm us. She’ll be able to use her body as shields while still being able to attack.”

“I’ll fill it with bugs,” said Taylor. “As much as we can, I’ll try to feel things out with bugs, see if they work and if they do, try to get things handled.”

“That’s Plan A,” said Peter. “Just bug ‘em. But we think they might work with the Vulture, a villain that sells advanced tech. It’s possible they might have something that’ll take care of the Swarm.”

“Plan B,” said Taylor. “No bugs from the beginning or at some point during the mission. That will be a disadvantage, five of us against likely twenty of them. Can you and Davos fight in the dark?”

“Yes,” said Davos.

Danny made a so-so gesture. “I can,” he said, “but I’m not at my best.”

“Unfortunately, that’s how we’ll work to even the playing field,” said Taylor. “On a scale of one to ten? How well can you?”

“Six,” he said. “Passable, but anyone who’s good in a fight can take me.”

“Even with your power fist?” said Peter.

“The Fist is concentrated chi,” said Danny, pouting. “It doesn’t help in techniques.”

“It’ll have to do,” said Taylor. “I’ll get started on their wiring, chewing them and hitting them with darkness. As much as we can, we’ll force the fight away from civilians by blitzing them.”

“It’d be a better idea to use the ATCU,” said Matt. “If the Swarm attacks and Spider-Man or Lacewing aren’t a part of the fight, they might get suspicious and try to push through. But if they don’t have time to think, it looks more natural.”

“If we’re willing to do that,” said Taylor. “Then it begs the question: Why don’t we just integrate the ATCU as part of our forces?”

She was looking at Peter as she said that. Peter frowned, the push back he’d been expecting? He couldn’t be sure.

“They have something to prove,” said Peter. “They have an image that they have to protect and protecting that image might make it easier for them to just pull the trigger. We’re not the same way. We want to protect people, but we don’t have anything to prove. We’re…unbiased.”

Taylor nodded. “Then a diversion,” she said. “We get them to drive in number there. They don’t have to do anything, but they make it loud, show Tombstone they’re coming from a mile away. While Spider-Man, me and the Swarm go on the attack?”

“What if they want those vehicles manned?” asked Peter.

“Then we can give them that,” she said. “We can’t discount things going to shit and their vehicles getting attacked. So we give them their safety, but them joining in is Plan C?”

“If we’re not using the ATCU, then that seems smart,” said Matt. “But how do we take down Duplicity? I think they’re the problem in all of this.”

“I…I think there might be a way, but I’m not sure how to use it,” said Ned. All of them turned to him. He quickly pressed on his computer before he turned it over. “I was thinking for a while, _how_ Bakuto figured it out. How he caught Duplicity, was able to photograph him— _them_ so much, and then I figure it out.”

He pressed a picture and zoomed over the lip.

“Not seeing it,” said Peter after squinting for a bit.

“Right,” said Ned. “Look at this thing, here on the lip.”

On closer inspect and there was a line, maybe a cut that had healed. It was small, almost hard to notice. Ned flicked to another picture, zoomed and it had a similar scar.

“I thought,” he said, “that it might be one of two things. Either scars or injuries can carry over, or that’s a scar they had before they had powers. So…” he pulled back and moved to the earliest picture. “I checked and this one doesn’t have a scar. There are three more that don’t have scars.”

“Injuries can carry over,” said Taylor. “But they were shot in the footage we watched.”

Ned shrugged. “That’s why I said I’m not sure how it can be used,” she said. “I’m not sure which injuries carry over and which just disappear. But maybe you can be on the lookout for something while you fight?”

“Still doesn’t mean we’ll be able to find it,” said Danny.

Ned shrugged again. “Was just an idea,” he said.

“A good one in the long term,” said Taylor. “But we’re not sure about short. I think…we shouldn’t think about apprehending Duplicity. Right now, we don’t know _how._ I think we should prioritise Tombstone, without him, at least it’ll force his organisation to resettle after the hit. Spider-Man, I think you’ll have to be the one working hardest on Tombstone. Striker protocols.”

Peter nodded.

“I’ll start making calls,” said Taylor, even as a swarm appeared, continuing the planning while Taylor spoke to the ATCU.


	43. Chapter 43

**Wreath**

**IV**

Spider-Man’s heart hammered in his chest, equal parts fear and excitement rushing through him. In the distance, he could see the White Spectre, an old, ornate building, made of a stone that was a grimy white with dark lines running through it; the place’s logo, made of neon lights, was a ghostly horse.

A bit of focus and he could hear the low thrum of music, hear footsteps, the clap of glass against wood, the sloshing of liquid and _movement._ There were people there, a good amount considering it was cold and during a weekday, but not so much that the place was filled.

And as many people as there were, they were nothing to the bugs moving from the neighbouring buildings to the White Spectre.

“Tombstone’s reacting,” Spider-Man whispered, because as he listened, he could hear the man speaking.

 _“…trouble,”_ he said. _“Go check.”_

 _“Sure thing, boss,”_ a woman close to him said.

“I think he might have an alarm and he’s going to check,” Spider-Man said.

 _“ATCU deploy,”_ said Lacewing. She wasn’t near him, but would be close to the building, coming at it from another direction. Where she stood, she would be close to a manhole, just as Spider-Man was close to a manhole. This was for show, close to a set of cameras put up in buildings that shouldn’t have been able to afford them.

 _“Copy,”_ a voice said.

Spider-Man ignored this, only continuing to listen. The woman had been moving, going to the back and up a flight of stairs to the living space above. The walk was brisk, but in the short span of time, bugs had started getting into the White Spectre’s ventilation, using those to get into the building.

The woman reached a computer, did a quick series of clicks before she stopped, pulling out her phone and starting to jot a text.

“She’s texting,” said Spider-Man. “Maybe telling him about the bugs?”

 _“Sirens are a go,”_ the voice from the ATCU trooper said, and in the distance Spider-Man heard them. There were six distinct sets, all of them in different directions and getting closer, _closing in without giving space to run above ground._

Tombstone reacted again, getting up and walking, heading for the back. Going upstairs.

More bugs had gotten into the building, going for the lights and the music and starting to chew at the wires. A few of the bugs started using the light to get attention, gathering at the bar and started to cluster together, forming a humanoid shape. Even so, it took a bit before they were noticed by people.

 _“Flicking on the lights for attention,”_ said Lacewing. Everyone suddenly reacted, stopping and some screaming.

The Swarm spoke, _“All of you, leave.”_

People didn’t wait as the Swarm exploded, bugs spreading out and forcing people to move.

 _“Leaving’s looking good,”_ said the Duplicity close to Tombstone. The two of them were getting a feed from a computer, Spider-Man being able to hear the lagged commotion from downstairs and hearing some of the sirens that were coming closer. _“Looks like this is push back for the whole jail break thing.”_

Tombstone hummed. _“There were bugs in the tunnels,”_ he said.

 _“Yep,”_ said Duplicity. _“Think we’re being trapped?”_

 _“Seems like it,”_ said Tombstone.

 _“Tombstone suspects we’re trying to trap him,”_ Daredevil said. _“And there are people that are too calm in the club. Not moving. I think there might be Duplicity clones in the crowd.”_

 _“The Swarm will start biting people that aren’t moving,”_ said Lacewing. Bugs started getting in earnest, some of them flying to Tombstone and the Duplicity upstairs while others moved amongst the crowd. Tombstone didn’t move, didn’t react as he was swarmed. _“Tombstone’s power is killing bugs as they touch him. Duplicity has five clones upstairs but they keep disappearing as I’m biting them.”_

“Moving,” said Spider-Man and he started at a run, jumping and then shooting out a thread and swinging. There were cameras in the area but he wasn’t worried about them, only getting quickly from point A to point B. He arrived, feet pointed towards a window that would take him to the second floor and barrelled in.

The window shattered and unlike last time he’d done something like this, he was wearing a silk costume. All the pieces of glass washed off him, ignored as he moved, running to get to the room Tombstone and Duplicity were in.

 _“Focus on downstairs,”_ said Tombstone, the man was moving. Duplicity must have tried to answer but they choked and Spider-Man heard soft pops, quickly followed a low drum as more clones spilled out. _“Get hostages.”_

Downstairs the drum was harsher.

 _“More of Duplicity downstairs,”_ said Lacewing. _“They’re stopping people from getting out. Counting thirty people that are still inside.”_

 _“Weapons?”_ Agent Leon asked.

 _“Flash,”_ said Lacewing. _“Intimidation. But they might threaten soon. Cutting the lights and swarming with bugs.”_

Spider-Man didn’t say anything because he could see Tombstone, the man striding through bugs and killing them as he carefully made his way downstairs. The lights went off and Spider-Man leaned on his extra senses: He fired twin web lines, targeting where Tombstone’s legs should be and felt as they connected. He pulled and felt as the man crashed into the floor.

Spider-Man jumped, turned and skittered across the ceiling, pushing past the bugs and hearing as Tombstone shifted, tried to rise and toppled over. Spider-Man fired a salvo of web shots, catching the larger man and sticking him to the floor.

Tombstone shifted and everyone one of the web shots snapped.

Spider-Man stopped. “Web shots aren’t working,” he said. Tombstone was getting up.

The cluster whispered, crackles and clicks of over a thousand bugs. He’d been leaning on his senses so much that they didn’t sound like words and a shiver climbed up his spine. He pushed it back, focusing on Tombstone as the man moved. He’d found the stairs leading to the first floor. He took a step and fell over.

“Repeat that,” Spider-Man whispered, pulling back a little.

“Your webs snapped,” the bugs whispered again. “I pulled him with a silk line and it snapped after.”

“His power isn’t what we know,” said Spider-Man, giving Tombstone room to move. “There’s another dimension that we missed?”

“Very likely,” the bugs whispered.

“How are things going with Duplicity?” he asked.

“I’m keeping them at bay and leading people out,” she said. “Keeping it from being a hostage situation. Daredevil’s telling me the people that are too calm and I’m nipping it in the bud before they can sprout. Trying to control the crowd.”

The sirens were louder now, getting closer.

“Incoming,” said the Swarm and when it was closer, he heard as a phone carried by a cluster of bugs neared. He grabbed it. “Read through the texts. He was trying to send a message.”

“Got it,” said Spider-Man. The phone had been opened and hadn’t had time to lock again. There was a line of text to a contact, ‘Hotfoot’. First telling Hotfoot that there was trouble and he’d handle it, then that he might need help. There was a question from Hotfoot to call the others.

“Possible reinforcements incoming,” said Spider-Man.

 _“Which complicates things,”_ said Agent Leon. _“Are you sure we shouldn’t step in? For the unknowing, we suspect that the Dragonlords and the Vulture might be working with Tombstone. If they’re calling in reinforcements, either of those might be coming in.”_

 _“Vulture will be the fastest here seeing as he can fly,”_ said Lacewing. _“We can’t have this fight in the open. Better we take it underground.”_

“Tombstone must have figured that out because he’s stopped moving,” said Spider-Man. “He’s sitting. He might force us to move him, give his guys time to get here.”

 _“Diversionary tactic,”_ said Agent Leon. _“We have six trucks headed in the direction. They’ve been going slow but they can push faster. We take him and then moving in different directions. Decreases, the—”_

 _“No,”_ another voice, this one belonging to Agent Gibbons. _“If we split our numbers then we’re less effective. We don’t know how many there’ll be and if they’re moving—”_

 _“Or we could force Tombstone underground while the trucks make it seem like he’s on them,”_ Lacewing interrupted. _“They attack the trucks, maybe their numbers go down, but by the time they find us, they’re tired.”_

 _“That’s if they don’t have some means of tracking him,”_ said Agent Gibbons.

Lacewing tsked. _“Tinkers,”_ she muttered.

Spider-Man’s mind had stopped though, his stomach twisting and turning because this was what he _hadn’t_ wanted to happen. The ATCU was getting more and more involved, the ATCU that had their image to protect, that had been fulling planning to use snipers to make sure this situation was handled. How long would it be before they went back to the same tactics? For that matter, wouldn’t their default just be shooting guns?

 _Naive,_ he thought and it reverberated. He thought back to the officer, those back to those circumstances and couldn’t help but feel that it was the same here. These guys were criminals and they weren’t playing with the kid’s gloves, but from the beginning, he’d been making sure that they, _the heroes,_ were.

“Lace,” Spider-Man said, voice shaky. “I’m scared that people might die in this.”

Past the people moving outside; past the drum as Duplicity formed clones and bugs swarmed in to bite and pop them; past the sirens getting closer; Tombstone sitting and leaning against a wall, only fighting in so far as it took to kill any bug that touched him; there was silence as Taylor thought.

“I’m going try my best to make sure that they don’t,” she said, “but…”

“Yeah,” said Spider-Man and he sighed.

***

“Missed a flight and all we did was listen,” Spider-Man heard Danny mutter. There were six trucks, not really designed to hold people but more transport for the ATCU troopers. Each truck could hold twelve troopers, but with a shortage of staff and weapons, there were only seven people per truck.

Forty-one troopers, all of them in military fatigues, pistols and knives on them, as well as assault rifles held in hand as they looked around, eye casting to the sky at moments.

Spider-Man’s stomach twisted as he looked at those guns, remembered when they’d been used against him what felt like so long ago. He wouldn’t be able to fight well with them in the picture, because he’d always have to worry about a stray bullet catching him. He might as well not be in a fight at all.

But he _had_ to understand it. When they’d been planning, considering how to deal with Duplicity, they’d missed the obvious option: With forty-odd assault rifles pointed at them, even with them forming clones, there was a large probability of them being taken out of the picture.

But out of the picture meant _dead._

“We can’t be sure that we missed a flight,” said Davos. “The woman said it was unlikely we’d get one.”

“Yes, well…it’s still grating that we didn’t fight. Got amped up for nothing.”

A moment, then Davos said, “Yes.”

The pair were standing a little away from everyone else, leaning against a wall and watching everything. Daredevil was with Lacewing and Agent Gibbons, the three of them planning a course and coming up with broad countermeasures. The Swarm was a rolling mass, twisting around and covering the sky, still ushering a few people that were too close to the scene.

All in an effort to keep their prisoners hidden. Tombstone had let himself be held, the man was currently handcuffed in a truck, three troopers with him. There was the fear that if there were too many people, he could bump into them and hurt them, that more room would be better if something happened.

Duplicity was on a truck with only the driver and swarm of bugs. They’d let themselves be apprehended as well, but it was generally understood that that was because they had clones elsewhere and they were only here to add numbers in a breakout attempt.

The doors to Tombstone’s truck closed and with that, the Swarm acted, bugs swarming in on Duplicity and biting them. They formed clones but that didn’t help, the bugs quickly moved to biting them, letting none of the clones have respite. A few seconds of this passed, Duplicity popping and forming more clones before they disappeared entirely.

“Clear,” the Swarm whispered and Spider-Man swallowed. It was the only way to take Duplicity out of the game at least for a little while, but there was nothing saying that another of their clones wouldn’t be joining the reinforcements.

“Rest of you get in your trucks,” said Agent Gibbons, “and let’s move.”

The process was quicker now, each of the heroes choosing a truck to get ride in, while Spider-Man gave himself more mobility. He started moving ahead of the convoy, stopping at times to get a bead on how they were moving and listening for anything that might be reinforcements for Tombstone.

They moved in silence, no sirens and obfuscating the path as much as possible, even if it meant the path was longer. They suspected that the others might have a way of tracking Tombstone, and that the longer it took to reach their destination, the greater the chance that Tombstone’s reinforcements would reach them. But just as Vulture might fly in, it might also be an army rolling in on cars, an army with guns that would just complicate things with a shootout.

 _“They can track him,”_ Daredevil said through the comms. _“There are ten cars, six people per car and I can hear guns. They’re five blocks south, they keep starting and stopping as we’re moving.”_

“Should I do something about them?” Spider-Man asked.

 _“No,”_ said Lacewing. _“Stay close. Daredevil, anything you can tell us about them?”_

 _“Asian,”_ he said. _“They’re not talking in English.”_

 _“Very likely the Dragonlords,”_ said Agent Gibbons. _“We’ll keep our distance. We have two trucks that’ll meet us en route. Our numbers might mean they hold back.”_

“Let’s hope,” Spider-Man muttered. He moved again, scanning, keeping a watch on everything. Tombstone was still playing nice, still cuffed, singing a pop song under his breath.

Fifteen minutes and there wasn’t activity. It was close to the middle of the night with little traffic and the convoy was moving faster, ignoring that the streets had snow and it was a little dangerous to drive that fast.

 _“Something’s flying to us,”_ said Daredevil. _“A machine? A suit and it has a person. They’re holding four other people.”_

 _“How far?”_ asked Lacewing _._

 _“Three blocks, getting closer,”_ said Daredevil.

 _“Swarm says bugs concentration are too low with our speed,”_ said Lacewing. _“You’ll have to do without.”_

 _“How far is their convoy?”_ Agent Gibbons asked.

_“They’re further away. Nine, ten blocks? Things are fuzzy.”_

_“Are there people in the area?”_ the woman asked.

 _“Not many,”_ said Lacewing. _“If we keep going there’ll be more. I could wake them up. Warn them to hide if we’re going to fight.”_

 _“We’re stopping,”_ said Agent Gibbons and Spider-Man could hear as the bugs in buildings started biting people, having them wake up and telling them to move. More than that he heard _it,_ the whirs of speeding blades and the thundering of heartbeats as Vulture and four others came forward.

Below, the trucks got into formation, forming a large circle and a few troopers starting to spill out, guns held at the ready as they found cover, pointing their guns skyward.

 _“Spider-Man,”_ said Lacewing. _“You’ll have to take care of the Vulture while we deal with ground forces. The Swarm won’t be able to help you…Plan B.”_

“Okay,” said Spider-Man and he’d already moved. The further he was from the ATCU the less mental weight he could give what was going to happen. The whir got louder and the he saw it. The Vulture, his wings spread and his claws carrying two people, on his back was another.

“I see them,” he said. “All of them are wearing masks, hiding their identities. I can’t tell who they are, can’t guess their powers.”

 _“Don’t engage,”_ said Gibbons. _“Stay low.”_

It wasn’t a second later before the first stuttering crack hit, breaking through the night and setting Spider-Man on edge. Vulture lurched to the side, ducking behind a building and getting lower. The gunfire, though, hadn’t been directed at him, instead it was firing wildly into the air, giving them pause.

 _“We’re moving,”_ said Gibbons. Spider-Man turned towards them and saw that they’d moved, one of the trucks with the back open and a trooper taking a knee, others holding him so he wouldn’t fall off if the truck lurched.

The convoy started moving.

Spider-Man followed, keeping an eye on the Vulture who now flew with trepidation. He changed tack and started flying the long way around, trying to get ahead of the convoy but it changed direction. He tried getting closer again, this time flying lower and using the buildings as cover. His suit wasn’t as fast as it could be, dragged down by the weight, but it was still faster than the truck even having to use the roads.

Vulture got closer, enough that they weren’t in the line of fire and one of the forms in Vulture’s claws dropped, turning into a brilliant white light as he fell. He landed, flickering to human and then light, and started forward, _fast_ as he moved; the humanoid-light form disappeared, instead sending out a lance of light that caught the last truck on the lower back, tacking out a chunk of the truck that included its wheel.

“Web Crawler,” said Spider-Man. “Breaker-Blaster. Anyone we know?”

 _“Give me a sec,”_ said he said.

The truck had been forced to stop and the trooper were quick to reel, having already started firing. But it was too late, the blaster had turned into their light form, darted into a different angle and changed human again while firing another lance of light. It hit the roof of the truck, thankfully missing the troopers who’d ducked, but coming away with a healthy chunk.

The rest of the convoy had stopped, other troopers spilling out and looking to the sky for the Vulture.

 _“Arthur Milman,”_ said Web Crawler. The troopers were trying and failing to hit Arthur as he kept moving, turning to light and dodging the hail of fire, and then ripping away chunks with each hit of his lasers. _“He was part of the Inhumans who escaped during the jailbreak. Um…his deal is turning into light and moving fast, then turning human and firing a laser beam. The more he moves while he’s light, the more powerful his lasers.”_

One laser caught a trooper square in the chest and sent him flying back into three others.

 _“Any weakness you noticed?”_ Lacewing asked.

 _“Hitting something turns him human,”_ said Web Crawler.

“On it,” said Spider-Man.

He’d been hidden, keeping track of the Vulture who’d pulled back, using the buildings as cover to flank them, but now he moved forward. He swung between buildings, catching a wall and running along it. He watched as the troopers kept firing, but it was slower now, not as incessant as before. He caught as Arthur turned human and fired a laser and he swung. Arthur turned to brilliant light, starting to move but Spider-Man crashed into him.

The light form folded and he was human. Spider-Man had lost his forward momentum with the hit, all of it suddenly sucked up, but he was close. He kicked and Arthur was sent flying into the air, careening. The man turned to light but slammed into a building; he lost his light form and fell, didn’t manage to hold his arms out right and hit the ground hard. Spider-Man quickly fired a series of shots that stuck the man to the ground.

The troopers had used the time to move, abandoning the truck and moving to another. Other troopers were out, watching the Vulture and his people, with their guns raised. When the Vulture got too close, Daredevil would give the word and the troopers would shoot wildly into the air, close enough that Vulture would hesitate.

It worked and the group pulled back.

The convoy started moving.

“What about Arthur?” said Spider-Man.

 _“Leave him,”_ said Agent Gibbons.

 _“Not worth the risk,”_ Lacewing explained. _“Our reinforcements are close, but theirs are closer. Can’t risk staying in one place too long.”_

Spider-Man nodded and moved again, keeping track of the Vulture who’d pulled back, going to Arthur and cutting him free. The man didn’t get back on,

 _“…didn’t sign up…,”_ he said, some words lost to the wind. _“Protection…danger.”_

“Arthur might be out of the fight,” he said and he was swinging in earnest now, trying to catch up with the convoy.

 _“Yeah,”_ said Daredevil. _“He’s not a criminal. Not really. Vulture’s pulling out too. Says it’s too dangerous.”_

 _“Good,”_ said Agent Gibbons. _“But let’s remain on alert until we reach the base.”_


	44. Chapter 44

**Wreath**

**V**

“Success,” said Lacewing and Spider-Man smile. He’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop for so long that he felt wrung out.

“I’m a little afraid to breathe,” he said.

“I get that,” she said and she went quiet. Spider-Man didn’t mind it, maybe it was a part of his personality because of his power, but he _really_ liked being up high. The building they were on wasn’t the highest, but it still offered a view of the city skyline. “A part of me is worried that something will happen, even with Daredevil telling us that the people who were following us have pulled back, that they might attack the building or something.”

“There’s still _this,”_ said Spider-Man. “The ATCU and whatever we’re waiting for.”

Lacewing gave him a look. “I don’t like it when you sound like me,” she said.

“I don’t like it when I sound like you too,” he said. It took a second before he thought about what he’d said. He opened his mouth to apologise, but Taylor snorted.

“It’s why I love you so much,” she said. “I mean…I sort of _have_ to love you because you’re my little brother, but there’s also how you look at the world. I wish I was like you.”

“I’m _awesome,”_ said Spider-Man.

She snorted again. “You are.”

 _“You’re_ awesome,” he said. “And I mean _you,_ not who Danny and Davos think you are. The person I know. The person I grew up with.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I…like the person I am now. Like…the type of hero I am now. It’s better than the life before. The other life.”

“Can I ask you questions?” he said, voice a little slow. “About—”

“Skitter. Weaver. Khepri at her worst,” Taylor said and Spider-Man heard her swallow. “Yeah. You can.”

“Was she a hero?”

 _“She_ thought she was,” said Taylor. “I mean, she did do good, but in retrospect it could have been done better, you know? She made a lot of mistakes.”

“You don’t want to make the same mistakes?”

She nodded. “It’s…when I’m the most like her, it’s when they hit. The panic attacks. You remember when you were working through the thing with Hammerhead?” Spider-Man nodded. “You said you could see things going a rung up, and then on and on, the line being redrawn until you didn’t recognise who you were.” He nodded again. “That’s what happened, to Skitter, to Weaver. She did all these things that made sense, kept…escalating as she fought more and more things, then didn’t step back at any point until it was too late.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” said Spider-Man. Taylor looked at him. “What?”

“People usually follow that up with an explanation,” she said.

Spider-Man shrugged. “I don’t think I’m good at giving advice,” he said. “Like, the only thing I can think of is what Uncle Ben loved to say: Your mistakes are a part of you but you shouldn’t let them define you. If you let them define you, then it’s harder to work past them. But if they’re an aspect of you, _one_ part, then you can realise that they can be overcome.”

“Uncle Ben gave good advice,” said Taylor.

“He did,” said Spider-Man with a smile. “Wonder if he’d be proud of us.”

“Without a doubt,” she said, looking at him.

The door to the back of the building opened and they turned, Agent Danvers stepped out, wearing a coat to keep the cold at bay. He walked the short distance to the edge of the roof, joining them.

“We’ve put Tombstone to sleep,” said Agent Danvers, he let out long breath. “Agents are on alert for another break out attempt, hopefully we don’t have any moles and they don’t know we’re moving him tonight.”

“The Swarm’s listening in and she hasn’t told me anything,” said Lacewing. “But then, a text might fool her.”

“Do people know about that?” said Agent Danvers. “That the Swarm can’t read texts, maybe computer screens?” Lacewing shook her head. “We’ll have to keep it quiet. Anyway we’re blocking outgoing signals. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“What are we waiting for? You never told us?” said Lacewing.

“SHIELD,” said Agent Danvers, the world slow.

“SHIELD? _Hydra-_ SHIELD?” said Lacewing.

“Not Hydra,” said Agent Danvers. “After… _everything_ a small faction that was loyal to the core ideals of SHIELD stuck together. They’ve been working in secret, keeping that off-shoots of Hydra and any other threats we had while the ATCU still hadn’t formed.”

“You trust them?” said Spider-Man, paying attention to the man’s heart which was beating faster.

“I knew there was something odd with what we were doing,” he said. “The types of prisoners we were capturing and how we were holding them. There was a whole lot of stuff that was going off-book, disappearances.”

“Hydra infiltrated the ATCU didn’t it?” said Lacewing, her voice cold.

Agent Danvers nodded. “It’s not something that everyone knows, but word has come in from up top that we were being used as a personal project to get something started. Something that needed an army of Inhumans.”

“Something that is…” said Lacewing.

Agent Danvers shrugged. “Don’t know,” he said. “I’m doing my best to keep things together, keep the criminal elements from knowing. I’ll let them focus on that.”

“How does SHIELD fit in?” said Lacewing.

“They figured it out and, at least from what I hear, they’re the ones who are taking over. They’ve promised to keep things quiet if they can take things over.”

“That seems suspicious,” said Lacewing. “Them finding the problem, magically fixing it and then wanting to run things. Are you sure they didn’t cause the problem themselves?”

“Captain America got Tony Stark to vouch for them,” said Agent Danvers. “The guy leading them is part of the crew that got the Avengers together.”

“Phil Coulson?” said Spider-Man.

“You shouldn’t know that,” said Agent Danvers.

“Black Widow released everything to the Internet,” said Spider-Man. “Web Crawler mentioned that. I thought he was dead.”

“People coming back to life isn’t something I’m surprised by,” said Agent Danvers. “Captain America came back after a hundred years.”

“But Captain America was frozen,” said Spider-Man. “Ice kept him in stasis. I heard _Loki_ killed him.”

Agent Danvers shrugged. “I focus on this,” he said. “A lot of the things that go on are… _crazy._ I have a hard-enough time handling you guys, the Swarm, that thinking about people coming back to life…?” He shook his head, hands going into his pockets. “He’s alive and the Avengers buy that it’s him. Who can I trust if I can’t trust the Avengers, right?”

“That’s…a flawed way of thinking,” said Lacewing.

“Not like we have any other option, though, right?”

“Point,” she said.

“We’re going to take them out of the city,” he said. “Hide them because of the risk, but Daredevil was the one to call his lawyers and he’s made sure we have no choice but give him time with his lawyer. He’ll get a trial.”

“That’s good,” said Spider-Man and now he could hear it, even if he couldn’t see it. There was a shimmer, dark panels starting to appear and they drew out a Quinjet above them. It landed, its wings folding as its hatch opened.

Three people stepped out, a white man, on the shorter side and wearing a smile; and two Asian women, one of them standing straight and walking in a way that seemed _dangerous,_ while the other had a dopey smile as she looked between Spider-Man and Lacewing.

“Critters,” the man said as he walked forward. “Hello,” he said when he was closer, taking their hands and giving them a firm shake. “I’m Agent Coulson, and these are Agents May and Skye.”

 _“Johnson,”_ the woman with the smile said.

“Right, sorry,” said Agent Coulson. “Agent _Johnson.”_

“I’m Spider-Man,” said Spider-Man.

Agent Coulson beamed. “It’s… _really_ good to finally meet you. I’ve been wanting to hop over to New York and say hello, but, y’know, busy. So, hello.”

“Hello,” said Spider-Man.

“Agent Danvers had clearance to tell you how things are,” said Agent May.

“Which I did,” said Agent Danvers. “Got done a bit before you arrived.

“Good. Good,” said Agent Coulson. “Um…so you understand that we’ll be taking Tombstone out of the picture for a bit? Agent Danvers said that your villains may be working together and that they might break him out?”

“It was suspicion before, sir,” said Agent Danvers, “but it was confirmed tonight. The Vulture helped bring people to help Tombstone out of a jam. They were unsuccessful.”

“How well do you think you can handle things?” said Agent Coulson. “Between the ATCU and the Critters? We’d like to be able to lend a hand but we have something that’s priority.”

“I think we can handle it,” said Lacewing. “But we might need resources—”

“We don’t just give out money,” said Agent May. “If that was going to be your ask. You’ll have the help of the ATCU, their resources, within reason. But that’s the best you can be given.”

Lacewing shrugged. “How about a flight,” she said. “Can you give us that?”

“We’re not giving you a Quinjet,” said Agent Coulson as Agent Johnson grinned, holding back a chuckle.

“Not what I was asking for,” said Lacewing. “We have two people that want to get to China, I think, but this being the season, all flights are fully booked. I’m hoping you can pull strings?”

Agent Coulson looked at Agent Johnson. “Few minutes and it should be done,” she said.

“Good,” said Agent Coulson. “Let’s get started getting the prisoner transported.”

The process was quite quick, with them mostly watching over as Tombstone was transported into the Quinjet. Agent Johnson asked for a computer, did some typing for a bit before she told Danny and Davos that their flight would be leaving in two hours.

“Thank you,” said Davos, both him and Danny bowing. The two were in front of the ATCU building with Spider-Man and Lacewing, already headed for the airport. Tombstone and the people from SHIELD had already left into the sky.

“Sorry you didn’t get to punch stuff,” Lacewing said.

“It got us a flight, so that’s good,” said Danny. “Really wanted to see some action, though. I don’t think I’ve even activated the Fist since I’ve gotten here.”

“The Iron Fist isn’t some toy,” said Davos.

“You know what I mean,” said Danny. “It was good to meet you,” he said to Lacewing. “You too, Spider-Man.”

“You too,” said Spider-Man, holding out a fist. Danny’s fist glowed before he gave Spider-Man a fist bump. Both of them were grinning, while Davos looked on with unhidden exasperation.

“All going well, we won’t get to see you again,” said Davos.

Lacewing nodded. “Remember what I said about him.”

“The price is heavy, _yes,”_ said Davos. “We’ll make sure everyone knows and no one accepts. Though it should be easy with them working with the Hand.”

“And if you ever need help,” said Spider-Man. “You have our numbers.”

Danny nodded.

They got into their cab and they drove off. As the cab turned a corner, Spider-Man heard the driver say, “You guys know, Spider-Man, huh? What’s he like?”

“Daredevil,” said Lacewing. “Need a ride?”

The man was still in the building, keeping out of the cold, drinking coffee and eating doughnuts.

“Yeah,” he said. “Get me back to Queens for my clothes and I’ll find my own way back.”

“You know,” said Spider-Man as they went to pick him up. “I think I should have had my mask show my mouth. _Really_ want me some doughnuts right now.”

Lacewing only snorted.

***

“No patrol, no nothing today,” said Peter the next day. They were sitting at home, still so early in the morning that they shouldn’t have been us, especially with how late they’d gone to bed. “Only _light_ patrols and even then, no major plots.”

“There’s still _a lot_ to do,” said Taylor.

“And that’s the problem: We’re long due for some downtime.”

“Okay, then, Mr Bossy-pants,” she said. “What _do_ we do?”

“First, we’re going skating,” he said. “I’ve already invited people.”

For the rest of the morning it was preparing, Taylor complaining about the cold and then wearing more clothes than Peter thought were really necessary. They got on a cab and went to the rink where Ned, Abe, Cindy and Su had already arrived.

“Full disclosure,” said Su. “Not a skating fan.”

“What?” said Ned. “What do you do in the winter?”

“Dad has a _very_ healthy movie collection,” she said, “and I like being in sweatpants.”

“The first thing to get, is that Peter and Taylor are graceful freaks,” said Ned. “So don’t let that intimidate you.”

“Graceful?” said Taylor. “I don’t think that’s something people say about me.”

“You are,” said Peter. “But it’s usually when you fight.”

“You fight?” said Abe. He’d finished getting his skates on and was clambering into the rink. Taylor and Cindy finished, getting in.

“Yeah,” said Taylor. “But I don’t usually stick with one thing. It gets boring after a while.”

“My brother got me into it,” he said. “I’m not good, but,” he shrugged, “it really helps when it feels like I can’t control my trains of thought.”

“Trains, plural?” Su said.

“I can relate to that,” Taylor said, skating back and keeping ahead of Abe and Cindy. There were other people, but Taylor didn’t care and she had a way of drifting out of the way when they got too close.

“Fuck,” said Su. “I see it. And I’m intimidated.”

“Take my hand?” said Peter. “’Least you won’t face plant.”

She smiled. “Thanks,” she said. It showed that she wasn’t used to skating with how she walked, almost toppling over before she even got on the ice. When she _did_ get on, she was worse. She could hold herself up without trouble but trying to move she would go too quickly and almost fall.

“We can sort of let the others go,” said Peter. “Don’t have to keep up.”

Because the others were already so far away.

“Sorry,” said Su, blushing.

“It’s okay,” he said, in the distance, he caught Taylor making kissing faces. He didn’t feel like that, Liz was the girl that made his heart jump, but he couldn’t help but blush.

“She better?” said Su. “Last time we talked you tried not to sound worried, but you sounded worried.”

“Yeah,” said Peter. “She was working through something and I think things are okay, now.”

“Good,” she said. “Taylor can be really scary sometimes. No offence.”

“Nah. She’s my sister. I get that,” he said. They stopped talking as a woman showed off, she drifted faster towards the middle, jumped and then spun through the air and landed, skating off like it was no big deal.

“Show off,” Su muttered.

“Give me a sec?” he said. She nodded, letting go off his hand. He drifted, getting faster and jumped, spun as the woman had done but adding and extra spin, and then landing. There was applause and he bowed, then skated over to Su again, ignoring Taylor, Cindy and Abe who were hollering.

“You’re a figure skater?”

“Nah, but I’m very good jumping and moving,” he said. “I’ve got the grace of a ballerina.”

Su snorted. “Ballerino,” said Su. “A male ballet dancer.”

“I did not know that,” he said. “Filed away and hoping I’ll get to use it in the future.”

She chuckled and smiled, continuing the conversation and talking about things that didn’t matter. Things that weren’t villains, things that weren’t having powers, and things that weren’t Peter’s sister having an identity crisis. Stupid things that made the world feel right for Peter.

The others joined them and they skated for a bit more before they went out to eat, then thought it was a good idea to go watch a movie so they did that, then went to eat again because popcorn wasn’t enough.

“We’ll meet again tomorrow, right?” said Abe. “Do something else? This was fun.”

Peter looked at Taylor.

“I…was actually thinking of a meditating tomorrow,” she said.

Abe deflated a little. “For the whole day?”

She shrugged. “Up to Ned really, he’s the master meditator. But maybe after?”

“Can I join?” said Cindy. “Always wanted to see what that was about.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Of course, the next day wasn’t _all_ meditation. Abe had come with his gaming console and thirty minutes into the meditation, Taylor got bored and she and Abe started playing video games. Not that Peter blamed her. Meditation was a _gruelling_ exercise, especially when just letting his mind drift meant he was picking up so much external stimuli.

The meditation would start off with the intention of clearing his mind, then he’d get caught up with all of the sounds and vibrations, then he’d start playing around with his perception, the areas of focus.

“That’s _exactly_ what happens to me,” Taylor said when the others had left and there was only Peter, her and Ned. “I try and focus, letting my control over my bugs sort of drift, but I can still _feel_ them you, know? Then I’m watching Joshua, Miriam and Queen Esmeralda as they go through their life.”

“You’re naming them now,” said Ned, chewing down a mouthful of chips.

“I get _really_ bored,” Taylor admitted. “It got so bad that I had Spot running through the apartments without being seen.”

“That’s what that was,” said Peter. “Thought it was strange.”

“You know you can’t learn chi if you can’t meditate, right?” said Ned.

Peter shrugged. “Getting stronger through science is much easier,” he said. “Let’s go shopping for parts tomorrow. Use a bit of the money we have.”

Ned shook his head but shrugged.

Things followed that pattern well into New Year’s Eve, going on only light patrols, training but not pushing it, building stuff but not having it _dominate._ If anything business related came, then it was looked over but not allowed to take away from the bonding.

“Last day of recess,” said Peter. Taylor sighed. The two were standing next to wall watching their friends and people they didn’t know as they chat, punch in their hands. “This year was crazy, right?”

“Tail end of it,” said Taylor, smiling. “Most of twenty-fifteen was actually pretty tame.”

“If you don’t think about the whole Ultron thing that happened, or about the stuff that happened with Pym Industries,” said Peter, “or…”

“Okay,” said Taylor, her smile bigger. “Maybe it’s _just_ gotten crazy for us.”

“Twenty-sixteen,” said Peter. “Wonder what it’ll be like.”

“School,” said Taylor. “Not even a week to enjoy the new year before we have to be in stuffy classes again.”

Peter shook his head. “Don’t really understand that,” he said. “School’s fun.”

“Said the alien.” Taylor glanced at her watch. “It’s customary in these things to kiss someone into the new year.” She inclined her head. Su was the host of the party, her Dad having given her permission to, and she’d invited over twenty people. She was now flitting from conversation to conversation.

Peter blushed. “You know I like Liz,” he said, his throat drying.

“I know you have a crush on Liz,” said Taylor. “And I know that crushes aren’t healthy most of the time.”

“Can we not,” said Peter, and he was burning hotter. “Or I’m going to have to tell you about stuff.”

“About Ned?” said Taylor. “I know about him.”

“Then why don’t you say anything?”

“Because it’d be awkward after,” she said, shrugging. “I think I’m functionally asexual…because of everything.” She pointed at her head. “Feels creepy to date. Like I’m this old woman that’s perving by going after kids.”

“How old was she?” said Peter.

“Eighteen when things sort of ended,” said Taylor. Peter gave her a look and could see that she was a little better about telling him these things now.

“Is that why you keep calling me your younger?” said Peter. “I’ve been wondering.”

Taylor smiled.

“That’s cheating, y’know. Can’t use extra lives,” he said.

“You’re just working things so you’re older,” she said.

They stopped as Su got closer. “Okay,” she said, “I expected it from this one,” she pointed at Taylor, “but the point of this was meeting new people. Come on,” she said to Peter, pulling at his arm, “mingle.”

Peter met group after group, most of the kids that went to school with Taylor and most of whom asked about Taylor whenever they talked to him. It also meant that he was with Su for most of the time until they were counting down into midnight, not able to escape even though he could hear that Taylor was outside, away from the general thrum.

He had no choice but to kiss her and…it wasn’t all that bad.


End file.
